Memories of Lorien
by Serenn
Summary: The story of LOTR through the eyes of Aragorn's sister who accompanies the Fellowship from Rivendell. Complete!
1. Entering Lorien

Chapter One – Entering Lorien.

Lorien was clearly visible now with its friendly trees beckoning to them 'Here you will find refuge, here you will find ease from grief.'

For grief had surely taken possession of their hearts. The loss of Gandalf was a terrible blow that weighed heavily on all of the Fellowship. Each avoided the eyes of the others, each privately re-living the wizard's final moments, wondering if it somehow could have been prevented.

Arlannis looked for her brother. Aragorn had turned back to the aid of the Ring bearer. Frodo seemed at the end of his strength. Gandalf had been the one constant throughout the halfling's odyssey beyond the safe borders of the Shire. Arlannis felt deeply for him, torn away as he was from all that was familiar and with such a heavy duty laid upon him. Boromir had been right on the slopes of Caradhras; it was a strange fate that they suffered so much pain and fear for so small an object.

Legolas gestured to her from the tree line, Arlannis signalled him back and passed the word – the trees were safe and free of Orcs for now. The Fellowship hurried, night was falling, the first night on Middle Earth that Gandalf would not see. Arlannis joined Legolas just inside the first ring of trees.

'We will not go un-noticed for long,' he said.

Arlannis just nodded in reply. She knew only too well how quickly the Lorien elves would react to their border being breached. She scanned the swaying branches above them, they seemed to stare back at her.

Legolas took her arm and Arlannis started and grasped the hilt of her blade, expecting an attack from the forest but Legolas only watched her face steadily.

'What is it?' she asked slightly unnerved by his expression.

'It is you, Arlannis,' he answered, 'we have reached safety here in Lorien, if indeed any land can be considered safe in these dark days, yet you look as if you have stepped into a nest of Orcs.'

He did not release his grip on her arm and Arlannis swallowed nervously. This friend of her brother's could be quite direct for an elf.

'No reason,' she lied, 'it is just the darkness and my heart is grieving for Gandalf. I expected that he would be the one leading us here and now…' she let her voice trail off and lowered her gaze.

_Yes, _she thought silently as Legolas' stern face relaxed from suspicion to understanding, _Gandalf should have led us here, Legolas, he would know the words that would ease this part of the journey for me._

Legolas released her and Arlannis exhaled in relief. Only Gandalf and Aragorn knew why she would rather face a lonely death at the hands of the Moria Orcs that still pursued them, then what awaited her in the blessed land of Lorien.

Gimli lumbered into view trailed by the hobbits that were still uncharacteristically quiet. Gandalf's death had wounded their spirits deeply and even Pippin could not muster a smile for her. 

The dwarf was hefting his axe and whispering to himself about the Witch that ruled the forest. His voice was carrying well in the cold night air. Legolas was grimacing to himself at the dwarf's words. Arlannis was watching their path and the trees but stopped dead in her tracks as Gimli nearly impaled himself on an arrow. She followed his frozen gaze and then saw them. The Lorien archers shimmered out of the trees and they were everywhere. The Fellowship was surrounded.

Just as Gimli was trying to choke out a greeting, Arlannis felt her heart shrink within her as the one person that she never wanted to see again stepped into view. She pulled her hood closer over her face and tried to melt into the background. She let her brother go forward to greet Haldir.

From her place between Boromir and Gimli she was free to observe him closely. He was still beautiful. But then it was well known that the grace of the elves never desert them. He had not aged a day in twenty years. He and Aragorn began to converse in the Elven tongue and both Legolas and Arlannis listened carefully.

She focussed on the low urgent tones but was stung from her concentration by a bright flash in her mind. 'I know of your presence, daughter of Elrond,' a pair of bright eyes shone at her, 'you have travelled far since last we met. Do not now trouble to hide your face.' The moment passed and Arlannis gasped and noticed that Legolas was observing her intently.

'You have sensed her,' he stated.

Arlannis pushed the hood away from her face.

'Yes,' she replied and turned to Haldir. The effect was striking. 

Haldir stopped in mid sentence to Aragorn, who looked around to see what had caused the interruption. The Lorien elf was staring openly at Arlannis, all elvish composure gone. In a moment that seemed to drag on for an age, he recovered himself enough to state emphatically, 'Whatever about the Ring bearer, _that_ one cannot pass through Lorien. She was banished. Permanently.'

Aragorn's hand slid towards his sword hilt and Legolas took a warning step towards him. 

'We need safe passage through Lorien, Haldir,' said Aragorn through gritted teeth, 'the fate of the free peoples of Middle Earth will rise or fall on our fate.'

Haldir's eyes closed briefly as though he conversed inwardly with another. 

Reluctantly, he nodded, 'So it would seem, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Follow me, I will take you to the Lady.'

Both Aragorn and Legolas relaxed as the arrows pointed at them were lowered and the Fellowship made ready to follow Haldir and the other Lorien elves.

The Mirkwood elf turned to Arlannis with an unspoken question in his eyes. She lowered her gaze and followed Aragorn's retreating form, but once again, Legolas stopped her with a hand on her arm. His eyes were bright in the starlight as he whispered; 'I would have the truth from you when I ask for it.'

He dropped his hand and let her proceed. Arlannis fought the urge to return to his side and try to explain. 

_But he is a Prince of Mirkwood and there is nothing to gain from explanations_, she thought dully.

Arlannis trudged after her companions with a weary step and a heart heavy with memories.

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	2. Memories Remain

Chapter Two – Memories Remain

Haldir's mind was in turmoil, though his face remained impassive as he led the Fellowship through the bright trees of Lorien.

Arlannis had been banished twenty years ago. It was the severest form of punishment the elves imposed on their own kind. But then, she was not indeed completely of their kind…

It spoke much of her importance that the Lady was willing to hold her banishment in abeyance while she was part of the Fellowship. Arlannis had made a brave name for herself in the ranks of the Dunedain. She and Aragorn had done much to hold the rising darkness in check. And she had done all this with no help from either Lorien or Imladris.

Haldir's memories rose unbidden. He remembered a golden laughing being that had captured his heart the first moment his eyes met hers.

Elrond himself had presented her as his second born daughter. Arwen, his first born, had been with them, but the difference was pronounced. Arwen, so dark, grave and serious with a voice as low as the breeze in the trees. Arlannis had bright long golden hair shot through with silver and she shone with light and merriment. Her laugh was an oft-heard chime in Lorien during those early days. 

Haldir had set his heart upon making this shining beauty his bride and spared no effort in winning her love. Gifts of gold, silver and rare gems became hers. Her bower was planted with scented flowers and sweet herbs so that when she retired at night her thoughts would turn to him. Poetry was composed in her praise and sung for her ears alone. 

Arlannis had no hope of resisting such a determined assault on her heart and Haldir was of noble blood and carried himself accordingly with great pride and presence. After only one short season of wooing he proposed marriage to Arlannis. And she accepted him with delight.

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Arlannis watched Haldir's back as he led the Fellowship through Lorien. She could not stop a heartfelt sigh as the memories came strongly to her. How she had loved this elf! He had been the first, the very first to capture her heart. Life at Imladris, after the death of her mother had been gruelling for her spirit. Her last link with her mortal side had died with Gilraen. Aragorn was leading the Dunedain and came seldom to Elrond's sanctuary and Arlannis was beginning to notice that she was not accepted, but merely tolerated in the house of her father. She realised that her elven kin did not see her as a true part of their family and instead looked upon her as a guest. A guest that would outstay her welcome and eventually become a burden. This realisation weighed upon her spirit and when her father suggested a journey to visit their kin in Lothlorien, Arlannis had embraced the idea willingly.

She bid goodbye to her friends, such as they were, in Imladris and saw with a pang that they hardly seemed to notice her leave taking. On the day they set out, she felt as though she was a spirit set free. Perhaps the elves in Lorien would see her differently. She was, after all, daughter to Elrond and he had been born of two half-human parents. Her mortal blood need not be a scourge with which to whip her.

And then she had met Haldir and forgot all her cares as she blissfully drowned in his bright eyes and sweet voice. The day he asked her to join her life to his was the sweetest memory she possessed even though the sharp pang she felt upon its recollection almost caused her to lose her breath at times. Such bittersweet remembrance! Arlannis wondered if Haldir ever let his thoughts roam to the past and to their all too brief happiness.

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Though he knew he appeared unchanged by the passage of the years, Haldir could not fully comprehend how different Arlannis seemed.

Gone was her long golden hair, shorn now to a curly cap that clung to her skull. Gone were her gowns and gems, replaced by tunic and leggings, a cloak and blade that both looked as if they had seen long service. Gone too was her easy laugh and ready smile. She had the air of one that had long lost any trust of happiness and no longer even sought a glimpse of such things.

Haldir sighed. He could still feel the leap his heart had made when she accepted his suit for her hand. They had rushed to his parents to share the joyous news and he had been puzzled by their reaction. His mother's stony countenance had chilled his heart. Haldir had not understood. It was when they came to Elrond that all became clear to him in a black moment that still had the power to fill him with despair.

'It is a great sorrow that your mother could not have lived to see this day, Arlannis,' Elrond had said after kissing her lightly on the cheek, 'I miss her, especially at moments like this. But we knew our span together would be short. Though the blood of Numenor ran strongly in her veins, she was but mortal.'

Mortal.

The word still echoed in Haldir's mind like a curse. His beloved bride-to-be was a half-breed. Not a true elf. Everything became clear, like silt settling in a pond into which a stone had been tossed. His mother's disapproval, the stares from the Lorien elves that he had taken for envy, were pity. Arlannis herself. She was quick to laugh and to seize the moment. And when he looked in her eyes, he could see a quality there that was unfamiliar to him. Now he realised what it was, or rather, what it was not. Arlannis lacked the certainty that blazed from every elf's face that life was never-ending. His beautiful Arlannis knew that she would not live forever. She knew that one day she would start to slow, to age and eventually, she would die. 

Haldir's heart had cried out against this cruel fate. And then hardened into ice. If Arlannis could not be his forever, then he did not want her at all.

And so, upon taking their leave of Elrond, Haldir brought her to the very glade in which he had asked her to be his wife and declared to her that their marriage was now impossible. 

Arlannis had simply stared at him in incomprehension and finally asked him why.

'Because you and I are not the same,' he had replied. 'You are half mortal and I never knew it. Save for a chance remark your father made, I might never have known until the truth became apparent in time. Tell me, Arlannis, would you ever have confessed your origins to me?'

'Confessed? My origins do not cause me shame, Haldir,' she had replied, 'My mother was a good and noble woman. And mortal, yes, she was a mortal woman. Everyone knows this, I thought you did too.'

'I did not know, Arlannis, you were presented to me as the daughter of Elrond. No mention was made of your mother.'

'My father does not name his dead,' she said coldly and then beseechingly, 'and if he had, Haldir, would you not have loved and courted me as you did?'

Haldir had not been able to bear the weight of that bright, pleading gaze. 'I would not, Arlannis, I want an elvish wife and elvish children. Our marriage would be a mistake and I will end it before it begins.'

'Before it begins?' she had answered bitterly, 'it has begun and yes it has gone much farther that that.' Arlannis had wept, 'You will abandon your word? And me? All of Lorien now knows of our match. How can I resume my place as Elrond's daughter when I was to be Haldir's wife?'

Haldir bowed his head as he walked and resisted the urge to look back at the Arlannis that followed him with the rest of the Fellowship.

At the time, he could not bear to look upon her suffering, his love for her could not be completely defeated by her birth. 'Great is my sorrow, Arlannis,' he spoke, still relishing the feel of her musical name on his lips, 'but you will love again. As will I.'

He had fled and left her in the sunny glade to come to terms with her desolate future without him.

But his final words to her had been mistaken. He had never loved again. But had she? Haldir's heart wondered treacherously if this quiet Ranger that now followed him had ever opened her heart to another. He bowed his head and tried to quell the memories of her laugh, her smile and the sound of her telling him that she loved him.

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	3. Caras Galadhon

 Chapter Three – Caras Galadhon Past and Present

'Welcome to Caras Galadhon,' Haldir's words hung in the air as Arlannis watched the eyes of her companions fill with awe at the shining tree-city of the Galadhrim.

She had reacted in a similar fashion the first time she beheld the beauty of her Elven cousins' home. It had not changed, the lights still glimmered and sparkled through the branches and an air of serenity was all-pervasive. The forest was wisely and lovingly ruled and gave of its best to please its ruler; the Lady Galadriel.

Arlannis had noticed the fleeting looks of puzzlement that had passed across the features of her companions on their journey to the city. She guessed that in each in their own way had their private exchange with the Lady. But not even this could prepare them for her majesty and beauty as she appeared before them with her husband, Celeborn.

Only Legolas and Aragorn could bear to meet her eyes as Galadriel looked at each of them in turn. Boromir of Gondor shook and flinched away from her gaze and Arlannis herself could feel the heat of an old shame mounting within her, as Galadriel's gleaming eyes seemed to flay her thoughts bare…

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Nothing escaped the notice of the Lady of the Trees.  She had known at once that Gandalf had not passed the borders of Lorien just as she had known who had returned unbidden to her domain. It had been twenty years since last she had set eyes upon this unhappy daughter of Elrond's. Arlannis had changed remarkably in that short span of years. Her glorious golden hair was now short as a soldier's and her eyes, once a clear window to her thoughts, showed nothing to the world beyond its own reflection, much like the Mirror the Lady herself kept.  

And her thoughts were carefully hidden, as were the secrets of her heart. Galadriel's keen otherworldly sight could not pierce the shield that Arlannis had perhaps unknowingly constructed. Only the Elves who had lived from the First Age and the wizard-kind had ever been able to shield their minds from hers. 

When last Arlannis had stood before the Lady, her thoughts had been painfully clear to all. That horrifying moment of discovery still had the power to make Galadriel shudder when she allowed herself to dwell upon it.

For though Haldir had abandoned the girl and thoroughly shamed her, no one had ever imagined that the effect would be so terrible. Sometimes, even still, the Lady's mind would grapple fruitlessly with the idea that a living being would choose to end its own life.

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Just the sight of the Lady's eyes was enough to bring back Arlannis' last encounter with her when she had been formally banished from Lorien for the sin of blasphemy. All the people of Lorien had witnessed this rare event. Elrond had stood beside her and given his solemn oath that his daughter would not set foot within Lorien's border again on pain of his own banishment.

Arlannis had remained silent with hopeless eyes fixed on the ground. The wounds she had inflicted on herself were painful still but not as painful as the emptiness within. 

What high hopes she had when first she arrived in Lorien. The joy of Haldir's proposal coupled with the knowledge that she would not always walk through life alone and on the very edges of Elven society had made her happier than she had ever been. Her utter despair when he rejected her had sent her spirit spiralling lower than ever before. 

Even her own father had little sympathy to offer when she told him her marriage was renounced all for the sake of her birth. Arlannis could not understand how he received the news without feeling slighted by Haldir. After all, she was being rejected solely for being the daughter of his own beloved wife. But Elrond had said calmly, 'Haldir has the right of this matter, Arlannis, you must release him from his bond. You cannot keep him in a snare of half truths and omissions.'

'I omitted nothing!' she had cried, 'I thought he knew, Father, I thought all knew of my birth, just as all know of your mortal heritage.'

Elrond stared at her, ' I made my choice many Ages ago, daughter, I chose the Elven life over the mortal one, and you have the power to make a similar choice.'

'I have chosen, Father, I wish for the Elven life but it is not as simple as that. Elvendom has to accept that choice and they have not!' Arlannis had cried in despair.

To this her father had no answer and she crept away to spend long days alone in the forest watching the skies. Slowly but surely Arlannis' grief had grown unchecked with nothing to assuage it.

From time to time she could hear the voices of the Lorien archers as they went about their duties patrolling the borders of their realm. Sometimes, she could overhear entire conversations and the betrothal that had gone amiss was a popular theme. As the days crawled past, Arlannis began to realise the extent of her isolation as the archers unwittingly revealed their opinions to their hidden, heartsore listener.

Arlannis learned that though Elrond was held in the highest respect and the daughter of Galadriel herself had been his first wife, the Lorien elves had never approved of his second marriage. To marry a mortal woman had seemed insulting after having been the husband of such a glorious being as Celebrian. The arrival of Arlannis some years later had given further offence. Arwen Evenstar had been the last child born of an Elven couple and her beauty and grace was seen as the final fitting word in Elvish perfection. Arlannis was seen as a pitiful afterthought and it was their view that she should never have been born. Her birth went unrecorded and un-celebrated in Lorien. No wonder then, that Haldir had not known of her origins.

Arlannis remained in the forest for a season, unlooked for and seemingly unmissed. Sometimes she could hear Haldir with his brothers in the forest and when she did Arlannis ran as fast as she could from the sound of his voice. 

And so after her months wandering amongst the trees, Arlannis had returned to her room in Lorien and removed from her belongings the one object she had left of her mother. A beautiful short sword that Gilraen had been taught to wield by her mortal husband. 

It sang brightly as she drew it from its leather scabbard. The blade still had a keen edge for Arlannis had treated it as a relic and kept it as sharp as the day it had first been whetted. 

She paused for just a moment to admire its cool beauty one last time and then drew it swiftly down upon her left forearm. The edge bit deep and though Arlannis felt nothing the blood sprang from her white flesh and flowed freely. In a daze she repeated the same action on her right arm. She dropped the sword and sank to her knees, watching the red flood as it spread out upon her bedraggled gown to soak the ground. She closed her eyes gratefully and waited for the pain to end. Darkness closed around the edges of her sight and awareness rushed away from her. Oblivion beckoned.

She woke in a comfortable bed, her injured arms outside the covers swathed in white dressings. With a rush of sick horror Arlannis realised that she was still alive and cursed inwardly, for she knew beyond any doubt that she had committed an act that no elf could ever comprehend, much less forgive.

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	4. Beginnings

Chapter Four – Beginnings

Legolas had closed his eyes the better to concentrate on the music of Lorien. The mournful harmonies complemented his current temper perfectly. The Halflings were listening to Sam's verses in praise of Gandalf's fireworks and Aragorn was in earnest conversation with Boromir, who still appeared shaken by his encounter with the Lady.

Arlannis was at the very edge of the glade. She sat with her back to the companions, looking out at the trees.  Legolas watched her from behind half-closed eyes. She seemed distracted and uneasy. No wonder, he thought, she has been banished and that was not an easy penalty to bear. And now all knew it and would no doubt wonder why she had deserved such a harsh fate.

Sliding gracefully to his feet, Legolas approached Arlannis quietly. She sensed his coming and seemed to tense slightly as he sat beside her.

'It has been a sad day,' she said slowly, raising her eyes to meet his.

'A grievous one indeed and not solely for the loss of our friend,' answered Legolas, meeting her gaze openly.

She sighed and began to loosen the leather ties of the greaves around her wrists. Her concentration seemed absolute until she broke the silence again.

'You do not scorn me then, Legolas?' asked Arlannis.

'Because of your banishment?' he said, 'No, Arlannis I do not. I have seen evidence enough of your good character in the last few days before I ever knew of this exile from Lorien. It is clear to me that whatever brought that punishment on you is in the past. You no longer deserve to bear it.' Arlannis nodded as if indeed this was true.

'Are you not curious then? As to what exactly I did?' she asked carefully.

Her hands had untied the greaves and let them fall to the ground beside her cloak. Legolas drew breath to answer but Arlannis did not let him speak.

She pulled the sleeves back and held up her arms for him to see. Twin, white scars ran the length of both forearms from the crooks of her elbows to her wrists. 'I did this. Many years ago, when life no longer had any meaning for me,' she said calmly. Her eyes were luminous as she waited for his reaction. 

Though her confession shocked him, Legolas let no hint of it show on his face. Instead he gently took her left arm and brought it to him to study more closely. 'You were truly intent on death,' he said tracing the scar with his fingertip, 'This wound was deep, I have seen men die from such wounds if they are not attended swiftly.' 

'But I was attended,' Arlannis answered bitterly, 'the Lady knew the very moment my life was in peril and sent my father to my aid. It was his skill that saved me though I did not wish it.'

'I am glad your wish went un-heeded,' said Legolas quietly.

Arlannis could not speak as he cradled her arm and continued to follow the line of the scar with his fingertips. The elf's touch was both hypnotic and soothing. 'Why?' he asked eventually. The spell of his touch was broken. Arlannis' brow furrowed slightly as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. Legolas saw tears behind her lowered lashes and swiftly regretted his blunt inquiry.

'I am sorry, Arlannis,' he said quickly, 'it is a private matter, I understand.'

She shook her head, 'No, Legolas, it is not the question that troubles me, but the answer.' With those words Arlannis stood and strode into the forest.

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Aragorn turned around in time to see his sister leave her place next to Legolas and walk quickly into the trees. Legolas looked bereft and a little disconcerted as he watched her go. The elf left his seat and approached Aragorn, stepping lightly over the forest floor. Aragorn had guessed which way Legolas' heart had turned since his friend had met Arlannis at Rivendell. He approved of Legolas' choice, but doubted the elf would succeed in winning a place in his sister's heart. And in his innermost mind, he doubted that Legolas would want to after he discovered the source of Arlannis' shame.

She had suffered terribly after the banishment. Such was the elves' reverence for life that her act of desperation caused her to be regarded as sick of mind. Upon learning the news, the elves of Rivendell had received Arlannis with courteous pity and little else. She had been more isolated than ever. 

A return to her old life was impossible, so Arlannis had started a new one. She had left the elves, sought out Aragorn as he roamed the wilds with the Dunedain and joined the world of mortals. She had trained assiduously until she became proficient with both sword and dagger. Her archery was merely competent for one of elvish parentage but her courage was never in doubt. This, and much experience had forged her into a warrior of no little skill. And she finally had the sense of belonging and purpose that she had missed at Rivendell. 

The years passed and Arlannis came seldom to her father's house. Aragorn spent more time in the North while Arlannis stayed in the East, close to Mordor's boundaries. She had been summoned to Rivendell for Elrond's Council to give what aid she could in the quest to destroy the one Ring. Aragorn had not intended for Arlannis to join the Fellowship, deeming the quest too dangerous, but her knowledge of the borders of Mordor and her undoubted skill as a warrior had made her a companion too valuable to discard lightly. 

Aragorn knew his sister as well as anyone could claim to. The attempt to end her life had shocked him beyond telling but had also drawn him closer to her. Their subsequent years together roaming the wilderness with nothing but their skill and wits to aid them had taught him respect for her abilities. But now, when his thoughts would turn to Arwen and his heart would swell with love, he wished that Arlannis too could open her heart to another being and love again. 

When he broached the matter with her she said, 'I lost my heart that day in Lorien, brother and it can never be called back. And, indeed, I would not wish its return, for the pain of it took from me my will to live and made every breath an agony. I wish you well but I will not venture into love again' 

And thus, Arlannis made it clear she had chosen a life of service in the Dunedain. 

Legolas was nearly three thousand years old and had seen much of the world of men and elves. Maybe enough to accept Arlannis for what she was and what she had done, or so Aragorn hoped.

'I fear I may have distressed your sister, Aragorn,' said Legolas, upon reaching his side, 'she revealed the reason for her banishment to me and...'

'And you could not resist asking why,' stated Aragorn, secretly impressed that his sister would be so honest with the elf. 

Legolas nodded silently and looked slightly ashamed of himself. 'The question was scarcely out before I regretted it,' he said.

'If Arlannis showed you the scars, I think she will tell you the rest of her tale, Legolas,' Aragorn ventured, 'for you are the first she has told of this. Take heart from that, my friend.'

Legolas did not look particularly encouraged, but managed a slight smile for Aragorn before taking his leave of him. The elf intended walking amongst the blessed trees of Lorien before the Fellowship's brief sanctuary there was over.

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	5. Facing the Past

Chapter Five – Facing the Past

Arlannis walked slowly beneath the branches of Lorien. Once the companions' voices had faded from earshot, she slowed her pace and simply enjoyed the beauty of the forest. She stood awhile staring at the moon as it rode the skies in silver splendour. Its cool white light was serenity itself and Arlannis could feel her heartbeat return to normal. Her skin still tingled slightly where Legolas had caressed it. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her in such a tender way and it stirred memories of her early days with Haldir in Lorien.

'Arlannis,' said a familiar voice.

As though her memory had conjured his very presence, Haldir stepped from the trees into view. Arlannis stepped back involuntarily. 

'Haldir,' she stammered, utterly discomfited by his sudden appearance, 'I am sorry, I did not know you were here. I will leave you in peace.' Arlannis turned to go but Haldir spoke quickly.

'I sought you out with intent, Arlannis,' he said, 'I wish to speak with you.'

Arlannis closed her eyes momentarily as she struggled to keep her composure and only turned back to him when she knew her face would not betray her thoughts. 

'What do you wish to speak of?' she asked coolly.

Haldir swallowed and looked at the ground, the trees, anywhere but at her and seemed to struggle for words until eventually he said, 'Do you remember the last time we spoke?'

Arlannis nodded once quickly, unwilling to dwell on the memory of her tears and pleading.

'I do,' she answered icily, 'is there something you wish to add?'

Her reward was to watch Haldir's face colour and his failure to hold her gaze.

'No I have nothing to add, Arlannis,' he said in a low voice, 'but there is something I would have you know.'

He looked directly into her eyes and Arlannis could not stop a shiver of the old empathy course through her very soul. She let herself drift into their depths and floated there silently, dreaming. Moments she had half forgotten seemed as bright as the day they first came to pass. She was not sure, but it seemed Haldir was re-living those same memories. His eyes were speaking to her in the shared language of the soul just as they had done in days gone by. The past was alive once more but with it came the pain…

Abruptly, Arlannis flinched away from Haldir, shocked at how close she had drawn to him in her moment of reverie.

Haldir put his hand to her face to draw her back but Arlannis recoiled from him violently. She backed away and stumbled, all semblance of composure gone. Her mind whirled, was it _that_ easy for the memories to overwhelm her?

'Arlannis,' Haldir cried urgently, 'please don't leave. I want you to know that I was mistaken that day. I committed a sin of pride, the fault was mine.'

Arlannis froze as he continued, his voice penetrating her heart, 'I loved you, Arlannis, more than I had ever loved before. My pride would not allow me to keep you close, but I have learned! And learned bitterly that pride does not fill an empty heart or comfort a barren soul. I love you still…' 

'Stop!' Arlannis cried, 'I cannot hear this, Haldir. I cannot hear this!' Her hands were clasping her head as if to ward off his words. 'Once' she continued, 'oh once, I would have given anything to hear you speak thusly, but no more! I have suffered beyond the telling of it since that day and I am changed utterly. I am not the same woman you betrayed.' 

Twenty years of silence and loneliness welled up inside and Arlannis thought she would choke upon the bitterness of it. To think that he would dare to speak to her thus and set at naught the pain she had endured on his account. She had been shamed before all elvenkind, forced to abandon all hope of ever finding love amongst her father's people. Wounded and aching, she had closed herself off from every being that offered her kindness and consigned herself to a life of solitary service in the Dunedain. Her once open heart had been shuttered forever. And all to atone for the misdeed she had been driven to by Haldir and his fellow elves. Her banishment had been to spare his family any further dealings with her and leave Haldir free to choose a more suitable bride. She cringed inwardly as she recalled her worry about embarrassing him with her presence in Lorien!  

And now he dared profess love for her! She looked up at him then with eyes blazing and Haldir felt hope die in his heart. Arlannis was right, she was no longer the ingenuous elf maiden who had fallen in love with him. Before him stood a Ranger, tall in stature, confident in bearing and burning with a most un-Elvish fury. 

'You love me still? You dare say this to me? You are the one who made me feel unworthy of love,' Arlannis spat bitterly, 'my father saved the life I wanted to end, but no one could save my heart, Haldir. Keep your love! For it is cruel and I no longer crave it!'

Haldir looked anguished at her outburst but extended his hands to her in supplication. 'I did not realise the extent of your suffering,' he tried, 'when the news reached me, I wanted to come to you and never leave again. I had seen you in the forest many times, wandering and lonely. My heart ached for you and I would have come to you…'

'Why didn't you?' interrupted Arlannis.

'I tried, but the others,' murmured Haldir, lost in the past, 'they told me that you were sick of mind, they told me that I had made the right choice in abandoning you.'

Arlannis nodded, unsurprised at the counsel he had received.

'And you listened to them,' she stated quietly, her voice shaking, 'while I lay in despair, wishing for death and hoping for sight of you.'

Haldir flinched but met her steady gaze. 'The choice I made was one of pride and I have regretted it ever since,' he answered with tears standing in his eyes.

'So have we both,' said Arlannis sadly, but steadily, 'but the world moves on. Wounds heal, hearts change and nothing can be as it was before. Don't weep, Haldir, for all tears are worthless.'

She turned then and left him in the glade, staring hopelessly after her.

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	6. The Blessing of Family

Chapter Six – The Blessing of Family

Arlannis walked blindly through the forest, not caring where her steps took her.  Anguish held her heart in a grip of steel, tears flowed freely and her frame shook as she tried to contain her sobs. At last, her strength gave out and she fell to her knees on the leaf-strewn forest floor. 'All tears are worthless,' she whispered hopelessly.

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Legolas' keen hearing discerned the sound of weeping as he walked the forest paths of Lorien. He knew at once it was Arlannis but some elvish reserve stopped him from approaching her directly. Instead he took to the trees, running lightly along the branches until she was within plain sight. And then he stopped, transfixed by her distress. For Arlannis was the very picture of abject misery, on her knees, her head in her hands, weeping as though her heart were broken.

Legolas could not bear the sight and turned away quickly. With a sure purpose he returned to the glade of the Fellowship and sought out Aragorn. The Ranger had not yet settled to sleep and lay watching the stars through the trees. 'Aragorn,' said Legolas, 'come with me now for Arlannis has need of you.' Aragorn did not stop to question his friend but followed Legolas to where Arlannis still knelt weeping and shuddering. 

Aragorn raised her up to enfold her in his arms, 'Hush now, sister,' he said gently, 'I am with you and all will be well.' Legolas withdrew from their company, unwilling to intrude upon their private sibling bond.

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Gradually, as her sobs retreated, Arlannis related the words that had passed between herself and Haldir. Aragorn's temper heated throughout the tale and was at its height when she finished. 'He declared he still loved you?' he asked disbelievingly. Arlannis simply nodded. 'He discarded me for pride and has learned to rue his choice,' she said, bitterly, 'as have I. He claimed to have loved me all along! Tell me brother, what do the past twenty years mean if it has all been for the indulgence of one elf's pride?' 

'Arlannis,' said Aragorn, tightening his grip on his sister, 'those years did not serve for naught. You learned to live with your faults. He did not. Surely you can see this?' 

Her eyes held his and slowly she nodded. Aragorn watched relieved as the despair faded from her face. 'I mean to speak with Haldir before we leave, Arlannis,' he said firmly, ' it is time he realised that he is not welcome in my family. Dry your eyes, sister and be of good heart. Know that you loved faithfully and well, as a woman should love. The fault was not yours, Arlannis, and I will no longer see you suffer for it.'

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Legolas listened carefully, waiting for Aragorn and Arlannis to return. Her heartbroken sobbing still rang in his ears and he hoped with all his heart that Aragorn had been able to offer her some comfort. For Arlannis intrigued him greatly and he did not relish the thought of her suffering. Before tonight, all he had known of her was that she was Aragorn's sister, Elrond's daughter and a dedicated Ranger. She seldom spoke and yet Legolas thought he could see laughter just beneath the surface looking for an escape. It was in Merry and Pippin's company that she looked closest to genuine mirth, for the young Halflings were a pair of incorrigible pranksters.  Even Elrond himself had been hard pressed to remain unmoved by the young Masters Took and Brandybuck.

Arlannis kept herself to herself, as Sam would say, the only person she seemed to confide in was her brother. Though Legolas had endeavoured to draw her into conversation, Arlannis always ended their encounters as quickly as the dictates of courtesy allowed. It was not done to offend him, Legolas was sure of that. It was as if she had set herself an internal boundary and would not cross it with anyone. But her reserve had been shattered with shocking thoroughness this night. Within a few hours, Legolas had learned more of this lady than in the last few weeks when they travelled together. His mind turned over the facts; she had been banished from Lorien for trying to kill herself, but he still did not know what had driven her to such despair. It had something to do with Haldir, that much was apparent. Her eyes had been luminous wells of pain when gazing upon the Lorien archer. There was a history there; that was beyond doubt. And something had distressed her terribly tonight, but he had not been willing to take advantage of her private grief just to have his curiosity satisfied. 

Legolas sighed. He had no choice but to take comfort in Aragorn's words, Arlannis would relate her tale herself when she was willing. It would profit him nothing to speculate and his patience was infinite as far as Arlannis was concerned.

Legolas heard their voices before any of the others; Arlannis and Aragorn had returned. He studied her face carefully from where he sat. The marks of her distress were still evident, but the wild grief had passed and she looked at peace as she spoke with her brother. 'Thank you, brother,' her voice was clearly audible to him, 'but there is one last task I must complete before I can rest.' Legolas felt his heart pound as Arlannis turned and walked towards him with a nervous yet determined look on her face. 

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	7. Gifts

Author's Note: Thanks to all who reviewed so far, your comments have been enlightening. And so, on we go…

Chapter Seven – Gifts

Legolas remained silent as Arlannis seated herself beside him. They sat together in peace for a moment. 'I owe you my thanks, Legolas,' she said eventually. 'It was nothing,' he replied instinctively. She nodded and then looked him in the eye. He could not recall a time when she had held his gaze for longer than a fraction of a moment. His heart slowed as her eyes seemed to swallow him without effort. There was pain visible within their depths but there was also peace. 

'Legolas,' she said, breaking the moment, 'this has been in many ways the most difficult night of my life. I miss Gandalf sorely, I do not think I will forget this fresh grief swiftly. And yet, this night I have felt the sting of an old grief most keenly. Twenty years ago, I was banished from this land for blasphemy. The reason was thwarted love. Haldir asked for my hand in marriage and I accepted.' Arlannis paused and her eyes closed briefly in remembered pain.

'When he learned that I was but half elven, he broke the betrothal and in my despair I tried to end my life. The consequences of this act were not lightly borne. Elves in both Lorien and Imladris knew of my doom and looked upon me as one who had lost her reason.' Here, Arlannis broke off again, recalling those first miserable few days after she found herself bandaged and spiritless in Lorien. Legolas said nothing, silently willing her to continue.

'I have spent the last twenty years trying to atone,' she said, 'I could not remain amongst my father's people so I joined Aragorn and the Dunedain. I sought to bury my pain and my shame. But I could not outdistance myself.'

'Yourself?' asked Legolas.

Arlannis smiled somewhat grimly and bared her arms to him again. The white scars glowed faintly against her pale skin.  'A constant reminder,' she said, 'and never more so than tonight. Haldir sought me out and claimed to still love me.'

Legolas drew breath swiftly, 'To what response?'

'A bitter one, I fear,' answered Arlannis ruefully, 'he was left in no doubt as to what I thought of his avowal of love. But his words filled me with despair, as though all my sufferings were in vain and …. I am glad someone heard me.' 

Legolas smiled at her, 'Elven hearing is quite acute… and I would know your voice anywhere.' His hand reached up to her face and traced her cheekbone lightly. 'I trust Aragorn was able to comfort you.'

Arlannis wondered at herself. Scarce an hour had passed since Haldir had tried to touch her in a similar fashion and her body had recoiled from him as though he were tainted. And now she remained contentedly motionless as Legolas caressed her. 

'My brother knew how to answer my doubts,' she said slowly, 'but I would ask you, Legolas, if you have any?'

'Concerning you?' he asked. His hand never ceased its slow soothing motion on her face.

'And what is in my past.'

'You past is just that, Arlannis, past. The lady before me is a being of courage and grace,' answered Legolas smiling at her bemused expression.

'Grace?' she asked finally with a quizzical expression on her face.

'You are quite the artist with that blade of yours,' he said in answer.

Arlannis smiled, 'Yes, the blade is all my own, I had to have a new one forged after I…well, no matter, it suits me well.' _But the blade of my mother would have suited me better_, was her unspoken thought.

Legolas smiled back at her, 'My thanks to you,' he said, 'for telling me of this.'

'My thanks to you for listening,' said Arlannis.

They stayed a moment further in companionable silence until Arlannis roused herself to stand. 'It is past time for rest, my friend,' she stated, 'our refuge here will be short enough, I fear.' Legolas rose too and nodded in agreement. 'Rest well, my lady,' his eyes shone as he bade her good night.

She left him then and sought her place of repose close to her brother and the hobbits.

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Arlannis slept as deeply as the first night she had experienced the beauty and peace of Lorien. The Lady's tranquillity permeated the very air and for the first time in years she came to an acceptance of herself. No longer did she feel burdened by her deeds. Gandalf had been right when he told her that in facing her past she would realise her future. A swift pang stabbed her heart as she recalled the wise old mage's words to her. _Oh Gandalf_, she thought sadly, _will we ever look upon your like again?_

Morning broke as beautifully as it had at the dawn of all life on Middle Earth and Arlannis was there to greet it with hope in her heart for the first time in twenty years.

Her companions looked as refreshed as she felt, with the exception of Frodo. He appeared as troubled as ever by his unique burden. Boromir did not look as though he had passed a peaceful night either. He started at the slightest noise and looked uneasy. Arlannis noticed her brother observing the same and wondered at its cause. 

Legolas was nowhere to be seen and this made Arlannis both nervous and grateful. She did not quite know how to deal with Legolas. Life as a Ranger did not lend itself to comprehending the motives of people's hearts, be they elves or men. Most of her time was spent either alone, in the company of other Rangers or fighting Orcs. As a result, Arlannis could not discern if Legolas' attentions to her were those born of a natural elvish delight over a soul saved or … something else. From long habit born of necessity, she put the matter out of her mind. There were more important things to consider for now.

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It was time to bid farewell to Lorien. The Fellowship stood on the banks of the Anduin as the Lady and her court came to see them safely off. But it was not just to be a simple leave taking. The Lady had gifts to bestow and Arlannis smiled as Merry and Pippin stared at their elvish blades in excited wonder. Sam's disappointment at his elvish rope was also comical. The bow presented to Legolas was truly a gift worthy of his skill and Arlannis watched as he tested its draw and smiled in appreciation at Galadriel. Gimli was tongue tied at first but swiftly found an eloquence that Arlannis had not suspected of him. Even the Lady was charmed by his simple request and granted it and more without hesitation. 

When it came to her turn, Arlannis found it easier to face the Lady than she had thought. 'What gift would befit the daughter of Elrond?' asked Galadriel looking into Arlannis' eyes.

'You have already given me more than I could have hoped for and all unasked,' answered Arlannis quietly, meeting the Lady's stare without flinching.

'Then perhaps I can bestow a gift upon the daughter of Gilraen,' said the Lady smiling, 'if it can be truly called such, for it is something that belonged to you once.' And with these words, Galadriel brought forth the blade of Gilraen.

Arlannis could not conceal her emotions. For before her was the blade she had last seen twenty years ago, when it was stained with her own blood. Tears sprang to her eyes. 'I thought it had been destroyed,' she said when she trusted her voice to speak.

'I kept it,' said Galadriel, in her slow timeless voice, 'against the day when you would return. Wield it well, daughter of Gilraen, wield it with honour.'

Tears flowed from Arlannis' eyes as she took her beloved mother's sword by the hilt. 'I will, Lady,' she whispered and submitted as the elves of Lorien fastened a scabbard of well-worked leather to her back. She sheathed her gift and let the tears flow freely for truly she felt as though a part of her had been restored from darkness to light. 

The Lady smiled in benediction and went apart from the company to speak with Aragorn privately. The rest of the Fellowship stored their gifts which included Lorien cloaks and lembas, the elven bread of travellers on the light Lorien boats. All that remained was the final moment of parting.

Arlannis was sitting between Merry and Pippin trying to keep them from accidentally stabbing themselves in their enthusiasm for their new knives when she felt a presence behind her. She straightened slowly and turned to see Haldir standing on the riverbank.

He was staring openly at her with mute longing in his eyes. Arlannis stepped away from the hobbits and approached him.

'I bid you farewell, Haldir,' she said simply, offering her arm to him. It was the traditional warrior's gesture of friendship. His face distorted briefly but he matched his forearm against hers and grasped it firmly. 'Farewell, then Arlannis,' he answered, but there was no acceptance in his eyes. 'May we meet again.'

Arlannis swallowed and turned to go, but Haldir still held fast to her arm, 'My heart goes with you,' he said quietly.

'As does mine,' she replied and saw the hope fade in his eyes.

The Fellowship said their last farewells to Lorien and under Aragorn's leadership they pulled away from the shore to continue their quest upon the waters of the Great River.

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	8. Evil Partings

Chapter Eight – Evil Partings

They had followed the river for two days. The Fellowship rowed sturdily for as long as daylight permitted and at night, camp would be made a short way from the Anduin's waters. Their first night, Aragorn and Arlannis noticed a floating log coming to a softly bumping stop on the opposite bank. They were being followed by the creature, Gollum, he had tracked them faithfully since his escape from the gentle captivity of the Mirkwood elves. Their subtle follower had not escaped Boromir's eye either. The man of Gondor grew more agitated with each passing day and the slightest incident stretched his already taut nerves or so it seemed to Arlannis. 

Everyone's nerves were on edge, their brief stay in the haven that was Lorien could not take the enormity of their burden wholly from them. Arlannis had seen her brother and Boromir come almost to blows and the sight did nothing to ease her mind. Everyone could feel the growing threat of evil in their midst as they journeyed closer to Mordor. Frodo had become so withdrawn that he would barely speak, even to Sam, the natural exuberance of the other hobbits had become similarly muted. Only Legolas and Gimli seemed unaffected. Legolas had the natural ability of his people to withstand despair and grimness and Gimli would simply gaze upon his gift from the Lady Galadriel whenever darkness threatened his spirit.

Aragorn had the convictions of his heart with which to strengthen himself and Arlannis finally had the whole of her self returned to her. Gilraen's sword rode at her back and Arlannis would reach behind and grasp its hilt to reassure herself of its presence from time to time.

On the third day, as they approached the falls, Aragorn had the Fellowship pull their boats to shore. Arlannis knew his plan; to rest and make their way to the eastern edge under cover of darkness and approach Mordor from the north. 

But as her feet touched the stony shore Arlannis felt a sick sensation in her heart as though something black and malevolent had insinuated itself inside her.  She looked immediately to Legolas for confirmation and saw the same faint disgust on his face that she knew must show on hers. Their elven heritage made them sensitive to the presence of evil and now they were in perfect agreement. Something evil was approaching and was indeed almost upon them already. Legolas went to Aragorn at once, to make his concerns known, when Merry noticed that Frodo was no longer amongst them. Sam panicked and rushed off into the darkening trees to search and before they could be stopped the halflings were gone, each one racing through the trees in pursuit of their friend. But it was Aragorn's stricken glance towards Boromir's abandoned buckler that Arlannis remembered with a sharp pang of fear.

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Arlannis took direction from her brother who sent her in search of Boromir. He and Legolas along with Gimli went in pursuit of Frodo and the other hobbits. Arlannis stopped to listen, letting her elven senses guide her. 

'I see your mind! You will take it to him!' she heard a voice she scarcely recognised as Boromir's so thickly was it choked with rage. Arlannis raced towards the sound to find the man of Gondor on his knees in the dead leaves, sobbing and whispering over and over, 'What have I done? What have I done?' He looked up as Arlannis came to a stop beside him and clutched at her arm. 'Have you seen Frodo?' he asked desperately. 'I have not' answered Arlannis her skin prickling with fear. Boromir's eyes were wild and some terrible dread had him in its grip. 

'What happened, Boromir?' she asked as he sank back to the ground with a hopeless groan.

'I tried to take the Ring from him,' he gasped,  'we struggled and he put it on to escape me.' Boromir's face was a study in agonised shame. 

Arlannis drew breath sharply and backed away from him, 'Then he has vanished and no one may find him until he takes it off,' she said sharply. 'He will draw the Great Eye upon us all!'

'Frodo?' cried Boromir aloud, 'Frodo, I'm sorry! Frodo, please!'

There was no reply from the forest. Arlannis and Boromir stared at each other in consternation. The Fellowship was broken and the quest was falling apart before their very eyes.

Arlannis turned swiftly away from him, trying to calm her rising sense of dread. She shut her eyes the better to concentrate. 

'What is it?' whispered Boromir hopefully, 'can you hear him?'

Arlannis shook her head, 'No, but I can hear Merry and Pippin…'she exclaimed suddenly and drew her sword, 'Make ready Boromir, for there are Orcs close by!'

Boromir rose, 'The let us make haste, Arlannis, maybe there is something I can yet do to redeem myself.' Arlannis needed no further encouragement. Her reflexes took over and she set off at a dead run towards the high hobbit voices that as yet only she could hear. Boromir was only two steps behind her when they came upon Merry and Pippin caught near a ford with Orcs coming at them from both front and rear. Their pitifully small hobbit blades were raised and the fear of battle was writ plain on their faces. 

The lead Orc was rushing at them with his crude black weapon ready to strike when Boromir charged past Arlannis to block the deadly blow.  Arlannis took the second Orc in the throat with the blade of Gilraen and then swung it into the chest of another. Her heart beat wildly even as her brain worked coolly, assessing the size and strength of the enemy. These Orcs were different, bigger, faster, stronger than the ones she was accustomed to meeting on the borders of the Black Lands. There was a horrible animal intelligence about them, they acted as one and though both Boromir and Arlannis fought hard they were losing ground and time. Boromir fought like a madman, taking terrible risks and utterly careless of his own protection. He paused in his attack only to wind the horn of Gondor in the hope it would bring them aid.

The fighting was fierce, the Orcs were too many and both Boromir and Arlannis were growing tired. Merry and Pippin were of no use, their size precluding them from joining the fray. They stayed behind the Ranger and the warrior and yelled warning and encouragement as appropriate.

Arlannis' heart leaped in her throat as an arrow sped past her ear and hit Boromir in the chest. Time slowed as she saw the enemy converge on the wounded warrior. Her heart leapt with his blade as it rose and parried a blow from the nearest Orc and then cut it down. Another rushing sound filled the air and Boromir shuddered as the next arrow embedded itself in his torso. He sank to his knees gasping for breath and then the hobbits, pushed to the brink of their endurance, drew their bright little blades and yelled defiance.

Arlannis battled now with renewed desperation, their time was up and if she had to die in the hobbits' defence, then she was determined to cut down as many of the filthy Orcs as she could. The blade of Gilraen sang as she fought and tears filled her eyes as the sound of arrows hitting flesh came again and again. The enemy closed in, her senses filled with foul breath, sharp teeth and black skin. The hilt of a blade connected with her head, her vision swam, the high-pitched voices of the hobbits faded and Arlannis sank into blackness. The last words she heard were in the tongue of Mordor, 'A Ranger! A filthy Ranger!'

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	9. The Hunt Begins

Chapter Nine – The Hunt Begins

Aragorn ran towards the sound of the horn of Gondor. Legolas was at his heels with Gimli not far behind. Aragorn's mind was whirling, he had sent Arlannis in search of Boromir and now he prayed that she had not found him. The horn had been silent for the last few minutes, which meant its owner was unable to wind it for one reason or another. 

Aragorn quickened his pace but the sight that met him in the glade nearly froze his heart. All was quiet, the fighting was over and Boromir lay unmoving on the forest floor, riddled with Orc arrows and surrounded by his lifeless enemies. 

Aragorn rushed to him but Legolas hung back, uneasy as his kind were with mortality. Boromir's eyes opened slightly as Aragorn cradled him in his arms. 

'Boromir! What happened?' asked Aragorn as he quickly took stock of the injuries to the warrior's body. Even a hurried glance told him that Boromir would die of his wounds. He was beyond even the healing powers of Elrond. 

'Aragorn,' gasped Boromir, 'did you find Frodo? I tried to find him but he would not come to me, I tried to take the ring from him, Aragorn, I failed, I could not resist its call,' he broke off as a coughing fit racked his weakened frame.

'Rest easy, Boromir,' said Aragorn, 'Frodo is well, I spoke with him and the quest has not failed, my friend.'

Boromir's eyes closed briefly in relief, but abruptly they flared open again and fixed Aragorn with a look of mingled pity and horror. 'Arlannis,' he whispered, 'the Orcs took her and Merry and Pippin too.' Aragorn blanched but he could see that Boromir's spirit was swiftly fading. Though he burned to know more of his sister's fate and that of the hobbits, he questioned Boromir no further but instead offered words of comfort to the dying man.

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Legolas' head snapped up, his elven ears had caught Boromir's last words. He turned to Gimli, 'The Orcs have taken Arlannis and the hobbits,' he cried. Gimli's eyes widened in pity. The thought of the helpless halflings and a Ranger in the hands of Orcs was not a pleasant one. 'The poor little ones and the lass too, she's a brave one but no one can survive the tortures of Orcs,' he said sadly.  Legolas' eyes burned, 'That will not be allowed to happen,' he stated tersely. Gimli just stared sadly at him.

Aragorn left the lifeless Boromir and he and Legolas stared mutely at each other. Moving as one, they gathered the remains of the brave warrior who had failed to master the Ring but had ultimately redeemed himself in death. They placed him in one of the Lorien boats and arranged his body in a fitting manner. The waters of the Anduin would take Boromir to his final home.

Legolas could see Sam and Frodo tracking into the forest on the opposite shore. His mind was filled with doubt for their safety, but his heart would allow no other choice than to follow Arlannis. Looking to Aragorn he could see the Ranger had made the same choice, 'We will not abandon my sister and our friends to torment and death,' he stated, 'we hunt the Orcs!'

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It was night. Memories returned, Boromir's arrow-riddled body, the cries of the hobbits and the stench of the Orcs as they carried them off. Arlannis was on the hard ground, hands bound behind her back and her feet similarly tied. The hobbits lay close by, also bound hand and foot. Pippin's bright eyes softened in relief as he saw her return to life. Merry still lay unmoving beside him, with blood oozing in a slow trickle from his forehead. Arlannis tasted her own dried blood on her lips and bit by bit moved about to get a better view of their surroundings. It was not encouraging. On one side they were close to Fangorn forest and the trees that stood there were said to harbour a darkness of a different nature than that found in Mordor, but no less fearful for that. On the other, they had Orcs. Fast moving Orcs at that. A lot of ground had been covered since the desperate fight at Amon Hen.

'Arlannis,' hissed Pippin, 'are you alright?'

Arlannis nodded once. Pippin continued, 'Merry won't wake up, he was bashed on the noggin just like you.'

Arlannis was now aware of the individual Orcs as their voices came clearly to her. An argument was in full flow. She was grateful that Pippin did not seem to be following it though it was conducted in a mixture of common speech and Orc tongue. 

'Don't worry,' she said to Pippin, 'Aragorn will come for us.'

Abruptly, Arlannis found herself the object of attention. Merry and Pippin were unceremoniously booted aside and she was at the centre of a ring of grinning Orc faces. 

'The Ranger's awake!'

'We had orders to bring the Halflings!' said one, 'No one said anything about any others. What are we carting her bony body for? '

'She's a Ranger, fool. I've come across her kind before. Thought it might be fun to torment her a bit!'

Arlannis quickly scanned the faces, there was a mixture of Orcs here, the ones that had taken her and the smaller Mordor kind as well.

Orcs hated the Dunedain and all of her kind knew that death was preferable to capture. Arlannis shuddered as one came close enough to pick her up and roughly turn her head to one side.

'And look! Pretty elvish ears to boot!' he crowed before throwing her to the ground again.

'I'd rather carry her in my belly than on my back!'

There was a chorus of growls and hoots and the ring converged on her. Arlannis could hear Pippin crying aloud in protest but to no avail.

She was hoisted to her feet and tried to keep her balance. She did not have to balance for long as the Orcs quickly raised her up on their shoulders so that she faced the ground. 

'That's right! Bleed the bitch!'

Arlannis' vision was filled with twisted Orc blades and the pain was sharp as they made several cuts through her leather jerkin and scored her skin with shallow wounds. Blood began to flow and Arlannis watched in revulsion as half a dozen of the creatures ducked under their comrades' arms to catch the rain of blood on their tongues before it fell to earth. 

She struggled but that only served to increase the flow so she stopped and let herself go limp in their arms. She could hear Pippin's cries of horror at what must have been a savage sight. 

'I fancy her pretty little ears!' cried one and an answering cry of glee went up. 

Arlannis was dropped roughly back to earth and one of the Orcs knelt on her back, grabbed her head and gave her a good view of his curved black dagger as he brought it to her cheek and scored a thin line across it to her ear. The blade was filthy and the smell of the Orc almost made Arlannis gag, but her stomach was forgotten as he pulled the pointed tip of her ear towards him and then slowly sliced it off. The pain was excruciating and worse was the sight of him holding the severed tip aloft before cramming it into his mouth, setting up a howl of mingled greed and hunger from the others.

He had hardly finished chewing his morsel when the others, crazed from bloodlust and ready to tear her apart, surrounded Arlannis. Knowing she was about to be butchered, she managed to turn her head and shout to Pippin, 'Run! Get away! They will do the same to you when they're finished with me!' Pippin's face was pale as death but he nodded and started to shake Merry for all he was worth.

Arlannis took a deep breath and prepared to face death. Raising her bound legs she lashed out and was rewarded with a howl of pain and a wet, crunching noise that told her she had broken an Orc's face. She could no longer see the hobbits through the forest of Orc blades and hoped they had managed to make their escape. Fangorn could surely hold nothing worse than what a pack of blood crazed Orcs would do them if they stayed. Her head was in a grip of iron and she cried out as her intact ear was yanked hard and then…the tone of the Orcs' cries changed. From lust to surprise and then fear. 

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Aragorn and Legolas ran as quickly as the wind with Gimli struggling to keep up at the rear. Aragorn stopped dead as a bright glint in the flattened grass caught his eye. 

'It is her sword,' he said, picking it up carefully. It was black to the hilt with Orc blood and the hilt itself was stained a dark red. Aragorn cleaned the blade swiftly and pushed it through a loop on his belt.

'I pray she will wield it again,' he said quietly. Gimli panted up to them, chest heaving. 

'Found her sword, have you?' he gasped, looking troubled, 'Nothing but death would have loosed her grip on that blade, Aragorn,' he said in the matter of fact way he had of speaking.

Legolas turned swiftly, 'Save your breath for the chase, master dwarf,' he snapped. 

And on they ran, at a pace that would have killed any beings less hardy than they. The next day, a Lorien brooch nearly completely obscured by muddy Orc prints, was their prize. 'The hobbits are alive,' said Aragorn as they ran on in the wake of the trail.

Legolas found his breath would fail him if he allowed himself to think about Arlannis in the hands of Orcs, so he pushed the thought from his mind when it came. But the despair he felt could not be pushed away so easily. He knew that Aragorn was frantic with worry for Arlannis, for who knew better than he what Orcs did to their kind? Rangers who had been captured were rarely found except as piles of remains with the clear marks of teeth upon their bones. 

Legolas shook his head to wipe the image from his mind. But he carried the certainty that his heart would darken forever if he did not see Arlannis again. And that he could not bear.

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	10. Old Friends

Chapter Ten – Old Friends

Arlannis watched the Orcs scatter as the horses charged into their midst. Despite the pain and weakness that assailed her, she rolled onto her back. She was about to struggle to a sitting position when a giant stallion soared over her body and she thought better of it. Its rider paid her no heed and from her low vantage point, Arlannis' feverish eyes thought she could make out the trappings of a Rohan horse warrior.

All around her the cries of battle mingled with cries of pain. Arlannis turned her head this way and that in a desperate attempt to find her hobbit friends, but with no success. They had fled. 

Gradually, she became aware of a lessening in the clamour around her but was too weak from blood loss to make sense of it. A surge of darkness hit her and her eyes closed briefly, or so she thought. When they re-opened the battle was over and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

Arlannis could feel herself being dragged by the feet over rough ground, she tried to cry out but her throat was too dry for speech. Sickness coursed through her as the smell of cooking flesh grew stronger. Smoke obscured her vision and she tried to call out again, this time with some success.

'Stop!' cried a voice Arlannis thought she knew.

'What is this? Since when do Orcs wear leather boots?' it continued in stern tones.

Arlannis' exhausted wits finally matched a name with the speaker, 'Eomer?' she croaked weakly.

'Arlannis!' came the shocked reply and then a dagger was cutting her bonds. 'Take note, fools! You had better learn to tell friend from foe!' this to the man who had been dragging her to the pyre.

'Get water! Now!' a swift order barked and a skin of stale water was held to her lips.

 'What happened here? It's not like you to need rescuing, Arlannis,' Eomer said when she had drained the skin well nigh dry. 

'It was not by choice, my friend,' she replied, weakly, 'but I am grateful, more than words can say, that you happened by when you did.'

Eomer's face blanched in the glow of the pyre as he took in the extent of her wounds. He raised a hand to her face but refrained from touching the mutilations left by the Orcs. 'Can you sit a horse?' he asked intently.

Arlannis shook her head. 'I can barely stand, Eomer,' she whispered, 'I have been a captive for days.'

Eomer nodded, 'Then my steed shall have to do double duty, for we must leave here immediately. You can tell me the tale of how a Ranger nearly ended up as food for Orcs on the way.'

'Wait, Eomer,' protested Arlannis, 'I was not alone, I had two friends, they would seem as children to you and your men, they're halflings…'

'We did not see these beings of which you speak, my friend and now it is time to go,' was her answer after Eomer had called out her description of Merry and Pippin to the other riders, but to no avail. 'You need to get to the healers at Edoras, Arlannis, lest those wounds of yours fester.'

Arlannis tried to protest further but Eomer caught her up in his arms and set her upon his horse before him. Exhaustion claimed her and at last she succumbed to sleep in the security of Eomer's arms. When she awoke it was to delirium, the landscape jerked and tumbled around her and still the men of Rohan galloped on. 

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Aragorn listened intently while Legolas and Gimli remained motionless lest they distract him. 

'Riders approach,' he said eventually, 'we shall see if we find friends in the land of Rohan.' 

Within a few moments, the riders were in sight and passing the small band of hunters. 

'What news of the North, riders of Rohan?' called Aragorn loudly.

The war party turned from their path with lightning speed and within a minute Aragorn and his two companions found themselves at the centre of a ring of tightly pressed horseflesh.

The companions reacted instinctively to the threat and bows were nocked, axes raised and swords drawn as the ring drew tighter.

Legolas was an excellent horseman but even he was impressed at the riders' display of control in encircling them so swiftly. The leader pushed his mount through the circle to speak with them. And then, all thoughts of horses disappeared from Legolas' mind. For he could see Arlannis and she was alive!

He surged towards her, his only thought to touch her and make sure this was not some waking dream, but the men of Rohan had spears levelled at his face and Aragorn pushed him back even as the same joy lit his face at the sight of his sister.

'Arlannis,' he called, 'it is a joy to find you safe, sister!' 

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Sister, the tall man in the grass had called her his sister. Eomer glanced down at the Ranger in his arms, her breath came slowly and her eyes were glazed and dull. The blood had dried on her face and matted her short hair.

'Arlannis is your sister?' he asked.

'She is my younger sister,' came the answer, 'I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, these are my companions, Legolas of the Mirkwood Elves and Gimli of the Dwarves. We come in peace, seeking only to reclaim our comrades taken in battle.'

'I am Eomer, nephew to Theoden, King of the Golden Hall. Arlannis has spoken to me of you and it is well that she did for otherwise you would find yourselves shallow graves this day,' said Eomer.

Aragorn could see Legolas and Gimli bristle at this but he would not allow pride to rob him of the joy of finding Arlannis alive. Or was she? His sister looked deathly pale and dried blood obscured the left side of her face.

'Arlannis?' he tried, but there was no reply. 

'I grieve with you for she has been sorely hurt, Aragorn, son of Arathorn,' said Eomer, 'the Orcs were in the course of butchering her when we attacked. I am taking her to Edoras, to the healers there.'

He gestured and the spears lowered and just as slowly Legolas and Gimli relaxed their grip on their weapons.

Eomer dismounted and gently pulled Arlannis off the horse and beckoned the three companions forward the better to see her. For her part she seemed not to be aware of what was happening. She just stared blankly and did not recognise Aragorn when he pressed her hand and called her name. Gimli muttered curses under his breath as her wounds were revealed. Her jerkin had been torn to strips and the gashes on her skin were an unwholesome dark red. But worst of all was her face. The wound left by the Orc's dagger had festered overnight and the left side of her face was swollen and dark and here Legolas and Aragorn, hardened warriors both, turned white as they saw what remained of her left ear.

Aragorn shook with anguish as he looked upon her mutilation, but brought it under control. Turning to Eomer, he asked, 'Can your healers restore my sister?'

Eomer met his gaze squarely, 'I do not know,' he replied, 'I hope so, for Arlannis is a valued friend to me. You may be certain that I will do whatever I can to assure her recovery.'

 Eomer gazed down upon the woman cradled in his arms, 'We must get her to Edoras with all haste if we are to save her,' he said.

'The hobbits!' exclaimed Gimli suddenly 'What of the hobbits?'

Eomer answered him as he lifted Arlannis into the saddle again. 'They were taken with Arlannis, but were gone by the time we arrived. We made a search, albeit a quick one but we did not find them. It is possible they sought refuge in Fangorn forest. I can spare you horses for your journey, but you must choose quickly whether to follow me to Edoras or continue to search for your other friends.'

The riders were milling about ready to depart. Eomer saw the agony of the decision writ plain upon Aragorn's face. The choice was clear, follow his wounded sister or seek a pair of halfling friends lost in the night.

'Do you have a sister?' he asked Eomer directly, staring into the man of Rohan's face. Not many men could hold Aragorn's gaze if there were any doubt in their hearts, but Eomer's eyes never wavered.

'I do. And I would die to protect both mine and yours,' he answered, without hesitation.

Aragorn sighed as if he had received the answer he sought, 'Then we will accept your offer of horses and continue the hunt. But when they are found we will hasten to Edoras. Until then I charge you with Arlannis' safety. Treat her as you would your own sister.' He stepped forward and pressed Arlannis' hand to his lips and said in a low voice, 'Hold fast, Arlannis, until we meet again.' She stirred slightly at this familiar contact but did not rouse from her stupor.

Then he drew Gilraen's sword from his belt and passed it to Eomer saying, 'Give this to her when she wakes.'

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 Legolas' mind whirled as he watched the men of Rohan gallop away carrying Arlannis with them. His immortal heart felt weighed down with a pain he had never before suffered.  He stood staring as the horsemen disappeared from view over the horizon; so loath was he to part with Arlannis once she had been found. 

'Come, Legolas,' said Aragorn, gently 'we have to find the halflings.'

Legolas turned with an angry retort on his lips but stopped when he saw the tightly drawn lines of worry across his friend's face. Instead he said, 'I would that we had not left her.'

'It is what Arlannis would wish us to do,' said Aragorn, 'and there is no aid we could give her that the healers in Edoras cannot.' Compassion lit the Ranger's eyes as Legolas turned back to the empty horizon. 

'We will see her again, Legolas,' said Aragorn, 'my sister is a Ranger and our kind do not die easily.'

But Legolas could not be comforted by words. The pain remained within him just as he knew it would until he saw Arlannis restored to herself again.

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	11. Edoras

Chapter Eleven – Edoras

Eomer carefully laid his burden down upon the healer's table. Arlannis lay unmoving; she had not made a sound since he had brought her in. Her breathing was still shallow, but at least the bleeding had stopped.

The healer, a bent old man called Fromas, with white hair and a white robe, leaned over his new charge and carefully began to cut her clothes from her body. The Lorien cloak, he laid carefully to one side, but her jerkin and tunic were discarded as too ragged to be of any more use. A faint moan escaped Arlannis as the tunic was pulled from her abraded skin.

'Orcs, you say?' asked the healer of Eomer, who had averted his eyes once it became clear Fromas intended to strip Arlannis. 

'What? Oh yes, Orcs,' he answered distractedly, 'we came upon them as they were about to butcher her.'

'They'd already started from what I can see,' said the healer, pursing his lips, 'she was bled and the top of her left ear is missing.' This last was said in a faintly accusatory tone and Eomer could not prevent a retort escaping his lips 'We did what we could, Fromas. Now tell me if you can do more.'

'I think I can,' said the healer without a trace of reproach in his voice, ' you did well to bring her to me as quickly as you did. She was very lucky.'

'Lucky?' said Eomer disbelievingly, 'She has taken dozens of wounds and could have bled to death!'

'Ah, yes, that is true, but when I say lucky I mean that the Orc blades were not poisoned, young master Eomer,' said the healer with infuriating calm, 'the Orcs are vile creatures to be sure but at least they have sense enough not to poison their meat.'

Eomer let out a sigh of relief. 'So you can heal her then?' he asked in a more deferential tone.

'Oh yes, master Eomer,' came the reply, 'her wounds need seeing to and she's lost a lot of blood. You should go now, I have much work to do here before I can let her rest easy.'

Eomer did not move. The Healer looked up from Arlannis' body with a quizzical expression. 'Was there something else?'

'No,' said Eomer, reluctantly, 'just be mindful of her, Healer, she has been a good friend to Rohan. And to me.'

Eomer walked away and left Fromas to his work. He was the best Healer in Edoras and Eomer would have trusted his own sister to his care. 

*              *              *              *              *              *              *              *              *              *              

Arlannis stirred and then wished she had remained still. A wizened face popped into view above her.

'Ah, you are awake at last,' it said with a smile appearing and disappearing quickly, 'it is barely dawn. You must be accustomed to early starts, my dear.'

Pain crackled through her body but Arlannis could not help returning the friendly smile the old man gave her as he helped her to sit up in the narrow bed. 

'Thank you,' she said as she was handed a small cup of clear liquid. Her body was covered in white dressings from neck to waist and her face felt stiff.

'Drink that, child,' said Fromas brightly, 'there will be a sweetmeat for you if you finish every last drop.'

'I do not need to be bribed, sir,' answered Arlannis, faintly offended at being treated like a little girl. She took a sip and her tongue shrivelled instantly with the bitterness of the draught. She looked up with painfully pursed lips to see Fromas dangling a small roll of sugared dried fruit and watching her expectantly. Arlannis grimaced and threw him a counterfeit grin as she downed the rest of the medicine.

'Sweetmeat?' he offered in innocent tones. Arlannis, after a brief struggle with pride, accepted the sweet morsel with gratitude.

'I take it I am in Edoras?' she asked when she had finished chewing.

'Yes, you guess rightly. Your friend, young Master Eomer, brought you to me. That was two days ago. I'm Fromas, by the way, I'm a healer here,' came the answer. 'You were in quite a state, you know, practically bloodless and then of course, there was your ear.'

Arlannis instinctively raised a hand to her face but Fromas moved with lightning speed and caught it. 'You mustn't touch the dressings,' he said warningly, 'they must stay on for at least another day to let the healing salve do its work.' 

Arlannis looked into the man's worried eyes and acquiesced. 'When will I be fit to fight again?' she asked, 'I have friends who have need of me.'

'You should sleep,' said Fromas, 'your body has excellent powers of healing and by my reckoning you'll be off hunting Orcs again in no time.'

Arlannis felt her eyes closing of their own accord. 'What was in that drink?' she asked, aware her speech was slurring slightly, 'a sleep potion?' 

'No,' said Fromas, matter-of-factly, 'that was in the sweetmeat. The drink was to encourage your flesh to knit clean.'

Arlannis slipped into dreamless oblivion and Fromas looked benevolently down upon his charge. It was always best to keep the warriors asleep for as long as possible. In his view it gave them time for healing they would not have given themselves.

When he was sure that Arlannis was deeply asleep, he risked a quick glance under the bandages that wrapped her injured face. He had not looked since he had cleaned and salved the wounds two days ago and he fervently hoped that all was going well. Fromas sighed with satisfaction; the long scrawling wound on her cheek was closing cleanly and the angry red swelling had gone completely.

But there was nothing he could do about her ear and it rankled with him. He had cleaned what was left of it and cut away any useless clinging scraps of skin to prevent festering, but that was the extent of his skill. Arlannis would be permanently mutilated and it frustrated Fromas to the core of his healer's soul to admit it.

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The sun was beginning to set and its dying rays bathed the healer's room in a subtle golden wash of light. Arlannis slept on much to Fromas' satisfaction. He frowned as a loud knocking on his door shattered the peace of the evening. 

'Come in, master Eomer,' he called resignedly, but Eomer had already let himself in.

'How does she fare, Fromas?' he asked immediately.

'She heals fast and clean,' answered Fromas proudly, 'with a little help from my salves of course. All she needs now is rest to recover her full strength.'

Eomer grimaced at this and went to stand at Arlannis' bedside.

'You do not approve?' asked Fromas.

'It's not that. I fear she may have little time for rest, my friend,' Eomer said worriedly, 'things have changed greatly here at Edoras. And in such a short span of time! My uncle is not as I remember him.'

'You speak of Wormtongue's influence, I don't doubt,' stated Fromas, distaste evident on his wrinkled face, 'yes he is a rare one. If he had his way, Edoras would become a city of fear, such is his distrust of strangers. Many times have I spoken out against his counsel, but I am unheeded. I am just a healer after all, not a warrior like you.' 

'It matters not what you are, Fromas,' said Eomer, 'for anyone who speaks against Wormtongue now is held to be a traitor. Even I, the King's own nephew, am not safe.'

Fromas blanched at this, matters had taken a grave turn indeed if Eomer could be painted with a traitor's brush. Edoras had never known a more loyal heart than Eomer's. 'Are you in danger?' he asked.

Eomer turned a hunted face to him, 'Even now, Wormtongue moves to have me imprisoned. I have until tonight at best and if I am captured, what fate befalls Arlannis?'

'Why should they care about her?' asked Fromas quizzically.

'Because I do,' answered Eomer wearily, 'and all of Edoras saw me ride in with her. It will be enough to seal Arlannis' doom. Wormtongue knows that she is under my protection and what suspicion falls on me falls doubly on her for she is a stranger here.'

Fromas digested this in silence for a moment and realised that Eomer was right.

Eomer paced the small room in despair. 'How could we have come to this?' he asked, 'Wormtongue is in league with Saruman, am I the only one to perceive the danger? He will cripple Theoden and then nothing will stop him from ruling Edoras and taking my sister to wife no matter her loathing of him.'

'I can hide your friend,' said Fromas suddenly, 'At least I think I can. For a time anyway.'

Eomer looked at him intently, 'Be sure, Fromas,' he warned, 'Once Arlannis has regained her strength she will be more than able to defend herself, but until then she will be depending on you.'

Fromas swallowed but nodded, 'I understand, master Eomer, she will be safe for as long as she needs to recover.'

'Give her this,' said Eomer, drawing the blade of Gilraen, 'tell her that her brother sends it. Tell her that Aragorn is alive and will come for her.'

Fromas took the shining blade from Eomer and laid it on a bench next to Arlannis' Lorien cloak.

Eomer bent over Arlannis' sleeping form and placed a kiss on her un-bandaged cheek. 'Don't forget who saved you from those Orcs,' he whispered,  'for in a short time I may be the one in need of rescuing if Wormtongue has his way.'

Fromas watched as Eomer left the room as quickly as he had arrived. The healer took a deep breath and sat down to think. 

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	12. In Hiding

Author's Note: Again, many thanks to those reviewers following the story. Am particularly glad you like Fromas…

Chapter Twelve – 

Arlannis woke to darkness and the smell of herbs. 'Fromas?' she whispered, 'Are you there?'

'Shhhhhhh!,' came the reply and her elven eyesight made out the old healer frantically flapping his hands, signalling her to keep quiet. She complied, but noiselessly slid to a sitting position and then off the small cot.

Crawling quietly to where Fromas sat on his haunches anxiously staring upwards, she reached for his hand. She was rewarded by a cut off shriek as Fromas jolted away from her in surprise. It was then she realised that while her eyes could see perfectly well, Fromas was as good as blind in the darkness. 

'I'm sorry, Fromas,' she whispered, contritely, 'it's only me.'

Fromas clutched at his chest and sank back down to the ground. 'That's alright, my dear. I enjoy a little fright every now and then. Keeps the heart young, that's what I say,' he replied in a voice barely above a whimper, 'mine feels barely out of swaddling clothes thanks to you!'

'What's happening?' asked Arlannis.

'Eomer has been taken by the foul Wormtongue and now they search for you, my dear,' answered Fromas, succinctly, 'but for the love of all that's fair in the world, please remain silent. We may yet escape them if they do not think to search for us down here.'

Arlannis squeezed his arm in agreement and together they listened as muffled thumps and voices floated down to them until eventually there was silence.

'Where are we, Fromas?' asked Arlannis when the quiet had persisted for more than a few moments.

'We are beneath my healer's room, in a small cellar I use to store my more valuable medicines,' he answered, 'I dug it myself many years ago when I was younger and stronger and told no-one. For,' he continued with a twinkle in his eye, 'what good is a secret store if everyone knows of it?'

'What good indeed,' said Arlannis with no little admiration in her voice, 'you are a wise one, Fromas. You remind me of a wizard I once knew.'

'High praise indeed,' said Fromas, 'but time is short and in truth, I am no wizard. I wish I was, for then I could be of far more aid to you and Eomer.'

'You said he had been taken by Wormtongue,' prompted Arlannis, 'who is he? And why would Theoden let his own nephew be imprisoned?'

'Just a moment, my dear,' said Fromas, 'I feel the need for a little light. Talking to a disembodied voice in the dark is quite unsettling and besides, I want to have a look at you now that you're awake.'

Arlannis waited impatiently as Fromas located by touch the flint and torch and then took an age to light it. The room flared to life as the flame finally caught and began to burn steadily. Shelves and a small cot and jars upon jars of herbs and medicines were now visible and Fromas blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. 'Sit upon the cot, my dear,' he ordered, 'let me have a quick look at you.'

Arlannis did as she was bid and wondered what to expect. She remembered all too well her experience at the hands of the Orcs and though she did not feel any residual pain from her wounds, she could not help but wonder what lay beneath all the dressings. She had always been a swift healer thanks to her elven heritage but then she had never before been captured by Orcs.

The last of the bandages fell from her face and she heard Fromas sigh. 

'What is it?' she asked, half-afraid of the answer.

'You are truly remarkable,' said Fromas, admiringly, 'I wish all my patients healed as you do, fast and clean.'

Arlannis cautiously put a hand up to her face and felt the left side tentatively. The Orc's blade had scored her flesh deeply there, but now only a slight ridge of scar tissue met her fingertips. She passed her hand over her ear and winced as she failed to encounter the familiar elongated tip. 

Fromas grimaced in sympathy with her, 'I'm sorry, my dear,' he said gently, 'the ear was gone when you came to me. There was nothing I could do.'

'At least it doesn't hurt,' said Arlannis, ruefully, 'and at least I still live. If Eomer and his men had not come when they did I would not. Thank you for what you did for me, Fromas, you truly are a healer of great skill.'

Fromas smiled at this but only said, 'We should take a look at your other injuries, my dear, just to make sure all is going as it should.'

Arlannis submitted as Fromas unwound the dressings around her body. 'Tell me of this Wormtongue, Fromas,' she asked.

'Ahhhh, Wormtongue is a poison,' answered Fromas bitterly, 'and a curse upon us all. He has somehow wriggled his way into becoming the King's closest advisor and now our sovereign does as this black snake counsels.'

'And do all in Edoras feel as you do about him?' asked Arlannis.

'A lot, yes, but there are always those that will follow the power wherever it resides and now it resides with Wormtongue,' said Fromas in answer, 'that's the nature of mortal men, I'm afraid.'

'What has happened to Eomer?' Arlannis continued.

'He's been imprisoned for speaking against the black snake,' said Fromas, 'they've made that a crime since he was last here.'

'Did Eomer leave any message for me, Fromas? It would not be like him to be taken unawares, he would have had warning of his fate,' said Arlannis.

'You have the right of it, my dear,' said the healer, 'just turn onto your stomach for me so I can unravel the last of these dressings. Where was I? Oh yes, Eomer. He did come to see me earlier today just before he was taken. He told me to give you your sword and to tell you that Aragorn would be coming for you.'

Arlannis sat up abruptly and Fromas rolled his eyes as the dressings were torn into tatters at her sudden movement. 'Oh yes, thank you very much,' he said, 'I could have boiled them up to be used again, but not now.'

'Aragorn is coming? Then we are saved, Fromas,' Arlannis exclaimed, 'we just have to hold fast until my brother arrives.'

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It was a bright morning outside, but in the Hall the hangings were draped thickly and gloom hung heavily upon the people of Edoras.

Fromas fidgeted anxiously within the voluminous confines of his dark green cloak, shivering as he caught a glimpse of the Hall's dim interior, and cursed himself for agreeing to Arlannis' plan. 

'There are two tasks to accomplish, Fromas,' she had told him in the cellar, 'I must free Eomer lest some evil befall him in Wormtongue's care and you must keep watch until Aragorn comes. For he will put all to rights. You must tell me the instant he sets foot in Edoras.'

'But Wormtongue's men are looking for me,' he'd protested, 'they will surely pounce in an instant if they catch me outside!'

'Oh, I'm sure you have ways of passing un-noticed when you want too, Fromas,' she had answered. They had argued back and forth but he had ended up keeping watch outside the King's hall while she sought out Eomer in his cell. 

'Alas, for I am not born to intrigue,' he thought forlornly when his heart had recovered from the curious stare of a guard on the Hall's stone steps. 'I wish her brother would make haste before I expire from fright!'

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Arlannis followed the instructions Fromas had given her to reach the cells. The timber building was sturdy and well manned, but her skills of concealment were advanced and the cloak of Lorien gave her a hitherto unknown advantage. The guards never knew that a Ranger of the North walked past them at will. Arlannis stopped to listen at each of the cells until she heard Eomer's voice. He was humming quietly to himself but to Arlannis' hearing it was as good as shouting aloud. She rapped sharply on the wooden door and waited. 

'Who scruples to knock on a prisoner's door?' came Eomer's voice.

'A friend, not a jailer,' she replied quietly.

'Arlannis!' he exclaimed, 'You are recovered?'

'Yes, my friend,' she said, 'and now it is time to recover you.'

'The door is stout,' said Eomer, doubtfully, 'how shall you break it?'

He had his answer when the door swung silently inwards and Arlannis was revealed holding a master key in her hand.

'Fromas?' guessed Eomer and she nodded.

Eomer's expression fought a battle between relief and chagrin. 

'Do not treat him harshly, Eomer,' said Arlannis, 'he was so worried when he gave me this. The last thing he wanted was to have your wrath loosed upon him.'

Eomer stifled a chuckle and said 'What wrath? He has healed you and freed me and so all sins shall be forgiven. Though in truth he is a rascal!'

They did not linger but locked the cell door behind them and made a quiet escape from the prison house. 

*              *              *              *              *              *              *              *              *              *              *              


	13. Healing

Chapter Thirteen – Healing

It was late afternoon and Fromas hurried back to his healer's hut, flushed with relief. For he had at last spied a small group of strangers arriving at the Golden Hall. Which meant he could abandon his uncomfortable and dangerous post to bring the news to Arlannis that her brother had come.

'Arlannis?' he ventured when he got inside and locked the door, 'are you here?'

Two faces, one pale as milk and the other sunburnt from days in the saddle, melted out of the gloom as his eyes adjusted to the dim light.

'My Lord Eomer!' he gasped, 'it does me good to see you hale and hearty!'

Before Eomer could say anything inconvenient to him about master keys and other such matters, he continued, 'Arlannis, my dear, I bring good news. I have seen a party of four strangers come to the Golden Hall only moments ago! It is you brother and his friends, I heard him give his name to the guards.'

'Four?' said Arlannis puzzled.

'Aye, four there were and one of them I have the honour of knowing personally, my dear,' said Fromas, 'for well I know the wizard, Gandalf. He is once again amongst us!'

Eomer stared as Arlannis turned even paler and seemed to sink within herself. 'But Gandalf did not escape Moria,' she whispered, 'Gandalf is dead.'

Fromas looked slightly nonplussed at this and said cautiously, 'He looked fine to me. Of course I didn't actually examine him to make sure, but on the face of it, my dear, Gandalf is most definitely alive.'

*              *              *              *              *              *              *              *              

The three of them left Fromas' hut and made for the Golden Hall with all speed. Fromas kept himself huddled in his cloak, but Eomer and Arlannis strode barefaced with heads high towards the Hall. Arlannis' heart pounded with both hope and fear. Eomer had told her of his meeting with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli as he dashed to Edoras carrying her wounded body. She had no memory of it, but the knowledge that she would once again see her friends made her heart light. But there was one memory Arlannis would carry forever and that was the sight of Gandalf plummeting into darkness, dragged down by an ancient evil. And now she feared to discover what walked the land wearing his face.

They had reached the steps leading up to the Hall when she had her answer. Eomer breathed 'Wormtongue!' as a black clad figure fell down the steps hotly pursued by the Lord of the Mark and a tall figure carrying a staff. Gandalf. But gone were the grey robes of old and grey hair, replaced by shining white raiment and hair as white as snow.

A light of justice and a knowledge of great suffering hung in his eyes and all doubt left Arlannis' heart. Here was her old friend, miraculously returned from darkness.

 Wormtongue sped past them, Arlannis spared him a glance. He seemed a slight enough creature to her, not imposing enough to have caused all the trouble attributed to him. 

She turned back and it was then Gandalf spied her and cried, 'Arlannis!' She smiled at Eomer and Fromas and bounded up the steps towards the wizard. He enfolded her in a tight embrace saying 'It is good to see you, my little Ranger!' 

'Oh Gandalf,' she cried, 'can it be? How did you escape the Balrog?'

'All in good time,' Gandalf answered lightly, but his expression turned sad as he surveyed the wounds on Arlannis' face.

'Aragorn told me of your ordeal, Arlannis, you have had excellent care,' here he smiled slightly and spoke up a little, 'I think I detect your skilled hands in this, Master Fromas.'

Fromas shuffled forward a few steps, 'Oh. Yes. That. Well, I just cleaned her up a bit and put some salve on, m'lord. She did the rest on her own. Nothing either of us could do about the ear, though.'

'I see,' answered Gandalf thoughtfully, 'then maybe there is something I can do.'

Arlannis drew breath sharply as the old wizard cupped her mutilated face in his hands and closed his eyes. Being healed by a wizard was an experience that Arlannis would never be able to describe to her satisfaction. It was as though her head was being held under a fountain of icy water, yet she felt a warmth running through her. A stinging around her injured ear increased in intensity and then passed. Gandalf released her and opened his eyes. She raised her hands and ran them slowly over her face. The skin on her cheek was smooth with no trace of the Orc's blade. And her ear was whole and perfect as it had been before the capture. 

Arlannis smiled, then laughed. Gandalf laughed too at her wonder and delight and also at the expression on Fromas' face. For the old healer had climbed the steps to be at Arlannis' side and was now staring at her in open admiration. 'A complete recovery!' he proclaimed with glee, pinching her ear to test its authenticity. 'It won't fall off, will it?'

*              *              *              *              *              *              *              *

Legolas watched from the Hall's entrance. Arlannis was laughing and the sound of it gladdened his heart. She was in her brother's arms now and he saw her gaze turning towards him. As she caught sight of him, her eyes glowed anew and she eagerly beckoned him to join them.

Legolas moved with fluid grace down the uneven steps and was at her side in a moment. Gimli lumbered after him and both received a warm embrace from her. Legolas had held her gently, mindful of her injuries but she had smiled at him and said, 'You need not be so careful, Legolas. You do not think Gandalf would only half-heal me, do you?'

And though there was much grief in Edoras for the death of Theoden's son and regret for the time wasted by Wormtoungue's foul machinations, there was also joy as part of the Fellowship was reunited.

*              *              *              *              *              *              *              *


	14. On the Road

I'm back….

Chapter Fourteen – Journey to Helm's Deep

The column snaked slowly across the desolate landscape and Arlannis took the opportunity to enjoy the merry byplay between the Lady of Rohan and her companions. Eowyn impressed Arlannis with her ready valour and martial spirit. But despite the Lady's excellent qualities, Arlannis could tell that Aragorn had grown uneasy in her company. Eowyn's ever present smile and concern for his well-being was making him as uncomfortable as a dwarf surrounded by elves.

Arlannis mused on the matter as she observed Aragorn smiling at a jest Eowyn had made. _Would it be so bad brother, to wed a mortal woman? Aye, she does not have the beauty and grace of Arwen, but her heart is as your heart, mortal and full of strength. She will not fail you._

Arlannis tugged at her left ear, a habit she had fallen into since Gandalf had restored it. Aragorn smiled at her and she returned her hand to the reins with a wry grin.

'Just checking it's still there?' he asked teasingly.

'Fromas told me to keep an eye on it,' Arlannis defended lamely.

_And Fromas told me other things as well_, she thought.

Before she could stop herself, Arlannis twisted in the saddle to search for Legolas. He caught her gaze immediately, held it for a long moment and then looked away as though he hadn't noticed her at all. She faced forward again, cheeks burning as she chastised herself. One more lapse like that would only serve to make matters more complicated then she could afford. They were fleeing to the refuge of Helm's Deep to wage war on enemies as implacable as the ocean. There could be no time for matters of the heart.

Legolas watched the straight figure of Arlannis as she rode ahead of him. She sat her horse with ease and grace. Her elven blood was most apparent to him when she was in contact with the natural elements. He had thought she was at her most beautiful in the forests of Lorien. The pain suffered there had made her beauty more luminous. The moonlight of Galadriel's realm had made her elven features glow. But seeing her now, riding in the open sharing jokes with her brother and Gimli made him reassess his opinion. Her mortal half thrived in the sunlight, making her shorn hair shine as it reflected sunbeams and her eyes sparkle. In truth her could not tell which Arlannis he favoured.

Just then she twisted in her saddle as though she sought someone. His heart stopped as he held her gaze for a long moment before breaking the contact lest his feelings be all too apparent in his eyes.

The moment he had held her after Gandalf's miraculous healing remained burned in his memory. The sensation of her warm whole living self pressed against him had threatened to overwhelm his control. For Legolas had spent so many hours in torment over what she must have suffered while in Orc hands, that to behold her alive and unharmed was to him the greatest miracle he had ever witnessed in his long life. He had nearly crushed her with gratitude in his arms that day in Edoras…

The strength of feeling roused by that memory alone was enough to bring tears to his eyes so he suppressed it ruthlessly and forced himself to concentrate on the journey ahead. The future of the people of Rohan was in the balance and there was no time for lovesickness.


	15. Helm's Deep

Many thanks for the kind reviews…

AN: I will be mixing book and film here, Eomer fights inside Helm's Deep but Haldir and his merry lads also make an appearance.

Chapter Fifteen –Helm's Deep

The last of the stragglers passed through the thick gates of Helm's Deep. Arlannis stood with her brother on the walls and watched the gates swing shut with heavy finality. 'And here the men of Rohan make their stand,' said Aragorn pensively. Arlannis looked at him, 'Something troubles you?' she asked quietly. 'They are brave men, Eomer is here and he gives the men heart. Theoden is returned to his true self and leads as well as ever,' she added.

Aragorn shrugged and would only say, 'I hope that is all that is required, sister. The white wizard is cunning and any trap he springs will be swift and sure.'

'But we have a white wizard of our own, brother. Gandalf will not fail us. He will find Erkenbrand and bring him to our aid. Whatever devilry Saruman has planned will not prevail. Have faith in the strength of men.'

* * *

Those words seemed empty now as Arlannis gazed in disbelief at the host of Saruman approaching the walls of Helm's Deep. They had heard it before they saw it. The tramp of ten thousand pairs of Uruk Hai feet shook the foundations of the earth and vibrated along the thick stone walls of their retreat.

She had never seen a force so strong. All her previous battles had been mere skirmishes in comparison to this. Arlannis gripped the hilt of Gilraen's sword tightly. It felt cool and welcoming to her hand and she drew quiet strength from its presence.

She deliberately took deep breaths and schooled her features to calm before turning from the wall. The Uruk Hai were outside (for the moment) but Haldir was inside and watching her from his place with the Lorien archers. In truth, she could not say which troubled her more. She avoided his gaze and took herself below to see to the younger boys' arming.

Haldir's arrival had taken everyone by surprise, her most of all. Arlannis had said her goodbyes and had not expected to see him again in this life. The others had been delighted at his appearance, even Aragorn. _And Legolas had not taken it amiss either_, she thought.

Haldir sought her out but she had avoided him. The shock of his arrival meant she needed time to compose herself. And Arlannis was composed or so she told herself. After all, she has survived a vicious encounter at the hands of the Orcs and survived intact. Haldir was now a much needed ally. Nothing more.

* * *

'Arlannis!' cried Eomer

'I'm here,' she answered and straightened up from fitting a young boy with a helmet. Thrusting a nicked but still sharp sword into the child's hand, Arlannis followed the sound of Eomer's voice.

'Miss?' said the boy nervously, 'I've never used a sword, miss…' his voice trailed away anxiously. He was obviously trying not to be a disappointment. Arlannis paused, 'Allow me a moment here, Eomer,' she called. Eomer took in the scene and nodded tersely, 'Make it brief, you are needed on the wall.'

Arlannis hunkered down so her face was on a level with the youngster's. 'Are you from off one of the farms, lad?' she asked. He nodded miserably, 'Farm's been burnt, miss.'

'What's your name, lad?'

'Gram, miss.'

'I'm sorry to hear about your farm,' said Arlannis with genuine sympathy in her voice, 'but this is your chance to punish those that burned it. Here is your sword. Grip it firmly in your strongest hand and when it comes time to strike put all your weight behind the stroke.'

Arlannis guided the boy through a few practice swings and thrusts all the time cursing the fate that made children go to war. He smiled up at her when she praised him and her heart contracted inside her chest. Would anyone see that smile again after tonight's bloody work?

Eomer's voice called to her through the night air.

'I must go, they are calling for me,' she said. 'Take care of yourself, Gram and remember, when you do strike, strike hard!'

'I will, miss! Thank you, miss!'

_I must send him to Fromas in the caves_, she thought urgently, _he will look after Gram_.

Arlannis made for the wall, her mind on the keep's defences when she saw a shocking sight. The familiar face of the old healer of Edoras in the unfamiliar guise of a warrior, complete with helm and hauberk.

'Evening!' he said jauntily, waving his unsuitably long sword haphazardly. The men around him backed out of range quickly.

'Fromas?' said Arlannis in disbelief. She closed her eyes and opened them again but it did no good. He was still there.

'I got called up,' he said happily. 'Never used a sword before. Is it hard?'

* * *

Arlannis pounded up the steps to the wall to be met by Eomer, Aragorn and Theoden.

'Finally,' said Eomer as she appeared, 'we are arranging the final defences.'

'Eomer!' said Arlannis breathlessly, 'Fromas is armed! He said he was called up! I think he's hit a few of our own men by accident already.'

Eomer blanched at this and immediately sent a runner to relieve Fromas of all military duties.

The discussion turned to the defence arrangements. Aragorn did not look pleased and Arlannis soon found out why. She, Aragorn and Eomer had been given the dangerous job of defending the Hornburg gates should they fall under threat. It was clear that Aragorn had wanted his sister within the relative safety of the Deeping Wall, but it was not to be. Theoden, as befitting the Lord of the Mark, was to direct the battle from the inner keep.

Legolas and Gimli approached as Theoden left to confer further with Eomer and his household knights.

'We are to stay on the wall,' complained Gimli, 'where his arrows can do the most good and my axe none at all!'

Arlannis smiled. She had seen nothing that could dampen the dwarf's spirits. The more dire the threat the happier Gimli was. He saw every enemy as simply another feather in his cap; the bigger the better.

In the distance, her elven hearing caught a plaintive cry as Fromas was relieved of his new sword.


	16. Haldir the Bold

Chapter 16 – Haldir the Bold

Arlannis paced the wall slowly, exchanging a few words with those men of Rohan she knew from her travels as a Ranger. The cries and taunts of the Uruk Hai filled the air and their blaring trumpets hurt her ears. The charge had not yet been sounded but everyone knew it would be soon. The atmosphere was charged with tension.

In the midst of this, Arlannis found time to be grateful that Fromas was back in the caves with Eowyn and the rest of the women and children. She had volunteered Gram as his physician's assistant to help Fromas deal with the inevitable casualties. At least those two brave, but hopelessly inept, warriors would be safe for a time at least.

Lost in her reverie, Arlannis did not see Haldir until it was too late to avoid him with any semblance of courtesy.

'Well met, daughter of Elrond,' he said graciously, inclining his head towards her.

Arlannis kept her temper with great effort. Daughter of Elrond, eh? It wasn't so long ago he had only seen the daughter of Gilraen and rejected her for it.

'Indeed,' she answered coldly.

'I see,' said Haldir, noting her coolness, 'so we are not even to be friends?'

Arlannis could feel her blood rising.

'Of course we are friends, Haldir,' she answered tautly, 'we fight the same enemy, serve the same cause.'

'Ah, then we are friends to a great many people, you and I,' he answered, indicating the hordes of Rohan warriors on the wall and in the keep.

Despite herself, Arlannis could not help but smile. Haldir was rarely lost for a quick retort.

'I would speak with you, Arlannis,' he said, his tone serious.

'And what would you say?

'That I love you still,' was the answer.

'Then you know what my reply would be, Haldir,' said Arlannis quickly, 'for we have spoken of these matters before. Nothing has changed.' She made to leave but Haldir gripped her arm.

'That is true,' he said, 'nothing has changed, at least for my part. I meant every word I said to you, I still love you. I would still honour our engagement and make you my wife, Arlannis. What passed between us in Lorien must have come as a cruel shock but I hoped that time would soften your heart. I still have hope Arlannis. Please think on it, my love.'

Arlannis snatched her arm awkwardly from his grasp and stumbled away from him. 'Don't call me that! Those days are gone forever!' she cried. Her voice was drowned out by the call of an Orc horn.

Haldir steadied her with his arm and they waited for the din to die away before speaking. Arlannis gazed into his eyes, they were only inches from her own. As always, his physical proximity clouded her mind. The lonely years fell away and it was as if they had never been apart. But she knew the feeling was false. As false as his love for her had been.

'Please,' he said softly, 'please at least consider my words, my love.'

But his words cut her.

'Don't call me that,' she insisted, shaking her head.

Haldir smiled gently. 'What else am I to call you? You are my love, even if you will not let me be yours.'

Tears filled Arlannis' eyes and she bowed her head to hide them.

'Forgive me,' Haldir said softly, 'I do not mean to distress you. But this war could see one or both of us dead by the end and I must seize any chance of restoring what was once between us. I knew of your presence here and came gladly, both for your sake and the sake of the alliance against the Dark Lord.'

He cupped her face and raised her eyes to his. 'I do love you, Arlannis. I loved you though my pride pushed you away. When you returned to Lorien it was as though my deepest wishes had been granted. I love you now and will love you forever. My shortsighted pride deprived us of a life together and I curse it. But still I hope.'

Arlannis drew a shuddering breath, Haldir was a compelling advocate and the pull of their shared past was strong. But she had to be stronger.

'I love you, Haldir,' she started, 'you are always in my heart. You were my first and only love.'

She could see the flame of hope kindle in his eyes and shrank from what she had to do.

'But there can never be anything more for us. I am not she that loved you so desperately more than twenty years ago. We have had our time and now it is over. I no longer belong to the Elvenkind, I have chosen to live as a mortal woman.'

At this Haldir's head bowed and Arlannis knew he wept. But she had no comfort to offer him and certainly none for herself. She did the kindest thing she could and left.

Haldir let her arm slip from his grasp and did not try to stop her, as just for that moment he had lost all heart. Her parting words whirled through his mind. She was making Luthien's choice to forsake the eternal life of their kind. The thought of Arlannis dying one day cut him to the quick. Haldir knew now to the depths of his elven soul that Arlannis was the only woman, elf or mortal, that his heart would love. And he felt it would be worth the inevitable pain of parting to spend the years of her mortal life by her side. He also knew Arlannis had mistaken his tears for those of a rebuffed lover, but his tears fell for her choice and for the insurmountable parting that choice would mean. It had overwhelmed him with its finality. But it was not too late. That day, if the fates were kind, was yet far off. There was time to win her back and one day they would take ship together for the Grey Havens. One day.

'And still I hope,' murmured Haldir softly, watching Arlannis continue her walk on the Deeping Wall. 


	17. Partings

Chapter 17 – Partings

Legolas watched Arlannis walk away from Haldir and saw Haldir following her with his gaze. From his place on the Deeping Wall, next to Gimli, Legolas had seen the exchange between them but had no idea what had transpired. The urgency of Haldir's demeanour had been obvious, as had the distress he had caused Arlannis. She was coming towards them now on her way to meet Eomer and Aragorn. Legolas watched her brush a hand over her eyes and then pause to look over the Wall at the enemy army so closely positioned outside.

Once again Legolas felt an irrational anger as he turned his gaze to Haldir. The Lorien archers were welcome, not just welcome if truth be known, but desperately needed. But if the price of their strength was Haldir's presence, then Legolas would rather have made do without their numbers. He had made them welcome as one elf would do for another though he burned with frustration to see Haldir and the effect he had on Arlannis.

'Arlannis,' he said quietly as she passed him, 'is all well with you?'

She faced him and the evidence of tears was stark on her face. He reached out to touch her cheek, but she moved back and Legolas withdrew his hand, confused.

'I'm sorry, Legolas,' said Arlannis, 'I must go to my brother now.'

He watched as she hurried towards Aragorn, with each step she became less like an elf maid and more a Ranger. Her strides lengthened and her hand gripped the hilt of Gilraen's sword. As she moved to stand beside her brother, Legolas was startled when he saw them thus together. They wore identical stern expressions and had the same determined air, Legolas had never seen them look more alike. He had never seen Arlannis look less elven or more noble.

* * *

Soon all time for thought was gone, the Uruk Hai attacked on all sides and the fighting grew desperate. Theoden gave the order to fall back to the Keep before they were all slaughtered. Arlannis and Aragorn heard the order and Arlannis ran to pass it to Eomer. He had last been seen fighting in the large gap left by some devilish weapon wrought by Saruman's skill. Arlannis rushed towards the thick of the fighting, ducking and slashing as necessary to get to the beleaguered band under Eomer's command. As she ran on, she was unaware of Legolas running behind her, guarding her back. Aragorn had asked it of him, but Arlannis was as unaware of her brother's request as she was of Legolas' presence. Having reached a point within earshot of Eomer, Arlannis shouted the order to retreat. Eomer swung around, his countenance one of absolute fury, he was clearly reluctant to fall back. They had not expected to need the refuge of the inner keep so quickly. But the explosive force of the attack dictated the timing of the orders and Eomer shouted to his men to retreat.

He called to the Lorien archers who still stood atop the Deeping Wall defending it against the massive influx of Uruk Hai.

'Retreat to the Keep!' he bellowed. Arlannis looked upwards and met Haldir's gaze. He nodded at Eomer and passed the order to the rest of the Lorien archers and any other men who remained on the wall.

Arlannis turned to make her way back to the Keep and saw Legolas battling two Uruk Hai with his twin swords, his arrows being long since spent. She charged the nearest one and skewered it through its massive chest, Legolas slit the throat of the second spattering them both with black blood. They started to run when both heard a terrible wail of grief from the Deeping Wall. All sound faded as Arlannis felt a tearing sensation in her chest. For a moment she thought she had been transfixed with an arrow but looking down she saw she was still whole and unhurt.

Turning slowly, she looked upwards and beheld Haldir staring sightlessly forward and falling slowly to his knees. Her vision clouded with sudden tears and without conscious thought of what she was doing, Arlannis raced back to the Deeping Wall. Legolas pursued, knowing she would not get there alive without him. The Lorien archers fought with the renewed fury of grief as they hewed a path to Haldir's fallen body.

Arlannis flew up the steps on wings of anguish and stumbled forward to kneel beside the fallen elf. Heedless of the fighting she hung over his body, her eyes quickly taking in the wounds that only Gandalf could have healed.

Haldir smiled slightly as she filled his vision. Only a few moments of life remained to him, already his sight was fading.

'My spirit will await yours in the Halls of Mandos, my love.'

Arlannis bowed her head as his spirit flew free.

'Namárië, Haldir,' she wept, 'farewell, my love.'


	18. Hope

Chapter 18 – Hope

Aragorn paced the length of the Golden Hall anxiously. Legolas matched his anxiety but the elf hid it in the tense stillness of his body. Edoras was their refuge after the triumph of Helm's Deep. They were re-grouping and waiting for the signal to launch the final assault on the forces of Sauron.

Arlannis was closeted with Gandalf. Her silence since the death of Haldir on the Deeping Wall had not ended with the victory over the Uruk Hai. She had remained mute with grief and barely ate or slept. She would not respond to her brother's attempts to break her self-imposed silence. She would not respond to anyone.

Even the strong friendship she had struck up with Fromas was not enough to overcome her daze. It was beginning to seriously worry the old man; he didn't like to see the warrior types go all quiet. In his experience it meant one of two things. Either they were dead or they were about to do something that would get them killed.

Gandalf's presence had been most welcome and all hoped that he could work another healing miracle on Arlannis.

But the expression on the wizard's face was far from confident when he faced Aragorn.

'Her grief is deep, my friend,' he said gravely, 'the shock of Haldir's death has consumed her. She knows they will not be reunited beyond death. I fear she may simply fade away.'

Aragorn turned from Gandalf briefly. Just for a moment, he tasted the bitter grief that he and Arwen would know someday. It was the answer he had feared. More and more, Arlannis' behaviour brought to mind the first time Haldir had left her in Lorien. Every day, she slipped further and further away from them all, adrift in her own private world of loss. Elves had been known to die in this manner and not just a few mortals either. Their own mother, Gilraen, had diminished gradually, worn by loss and sorrow. It was not a fate Aragorn had ever envisioned for his sister.

* * *

Legolas turned abruptly and left the Hall. He walked in the fresh air on the high parapet of the Golden Hall and struggled to control his despair. Gandalf had said it. _She may simply fade away._ It was just this fear that had gripped him immediately after Haldir's death. In truth, Legolas had despaired of Arlannis. She had been mute with shock since he had taken her from the wall. It had been obvious she would be of no use on the field of battle. So Legolas took her to the caves and left her with Fromas. The old healer had taken one look at the stricken Ranger and said 'Leave her to me, I'll mind her.'

Legolas had bent down until his eyes looked directly into hers. It was disconcerting to see no hint of recognition in her face. Instead she looked blank with no trace of the person he had come to know since Imladris.

'Stay with Fromas,' he said firmly, 'when the battle is done I will come for you.' There was no sign that she had heard him, just the blank stare as though her gaze had turned irrevocably inward.

Legolas knew that if he never came for her, she would not even have noticed.

And then came the anger. Legolas drew a deep breath. Her indifference stung the elf like nothing else.

'Hello,' said a voice behind him, 'this a good place for a bit of a think, I always say.'

Fromas settled on a bench and waited for Legolas to reply. The elf did not reply at first and Fromas lost patience.

'I am an old man,' he started, 'and I don't have time to waste. Therefore, I offer you this advice. Whether you take it or not is up to you I suppose.'

Legolas held up his hand in a placatory gesture and said, 'Your advice would be most welcome, Fromas, forgive my rudeness, but I am at a loss. And I am afraid.'

'With good reason,' said Fromas, 'but you are the one I think can save Arlannis from herself.'

Legolas fixed the old healer with an intense look and motioned for him to continue.

'Make her angry,' said Fromas, grimly, 'scorn her for abandoning her family and friends. Remind her that she had good reason not to fall into the Lorien archer's arms. Kick her where it hurts!'

Legolas looked quizzically at him. 'She told you of Haldir?'

'Oh yes,' said Fromas, arranging his robes under him, 'it was a long ride to Helm's Deep and everyone tells me everything in the end, you know. I have that kind of face. Oh, it's doubtless she loved him, but that love was safely buried in the past, he could never have revived it. But she does not realise this, so that is your task.'

* * *

_He is dead. Haldir has left this world and me alone in it._ The pain tore through all Arlannis' carefully reasoned arguments for cutting the Lorien archer out of her life. Memories assailed her of their golden time in Lorien before the terrible day of his betrayal. Though she had resolved never to rekindle their love, it did not mean that she could not regret that choice now that he was no more. A world without Haldir in it had never occurred to her.

His last words resounded through her thoughts. _He will await me in the Halls of Mandos_. To what end? She had chosen a mortal life and her spirit would go beyond the bounds of Arda, for hers was the Doom of Men. Though she would see Haldir briefly in the Halls of Waiting, ultimately their spirits were destined for different fates. They would never be together again. Her own death could not reunite them permanently, but at least they would meet one last time…

* * *

Night had fallen on Edoras and all but the sentries were gone to their rest. Legolas paced the battlements, hooded against the chill of the night wind. Calmer than he had been earlier that day, he began to think. With swift grace he descended the battlements and sought Arlannis in her chamber.

Arlannis woke slowly. She had not slept much in the last few days, her sleep was filled with dreams of Haldir. It seemed she had only to close her eyes and he was alive again and with her and then the dream would dissipate like fog upon awakening. Without fail it left her with a fresh barb of pain in her heart, so Arlannis staved off sleep as long as she could. The exhaustion generated by this deprivation allowed her some moments of dreamless rest and Arlannis treasured them.

But someone was saying her name and shaking her. The darkness was deep but her elven sight easily discerned the form of Legolas looming above her.

'Arise Arlannis,' he was saying, 'I would speak with you!'

His tone was not the kindly pitying ones she had been hearing since Haldir's death. There was a touch of anger in his voice.

Arlannis sat up and stared woodenly at him. Legolas felt his resentment flare and did not try to suppress it.

'Haldir is dead,' he stated baldly.

Arlannis flinched away from him and he felt a momentary flash of guilt.

'But you yet live as do you father, your brother and sister and your friends!'

Arlannis turned her face away but Legolas caught her head between his hands and forced her to look at him.

'Do not turn away from me!' he said fiercely.

He saw a tear roll down her cheek and brushed it away brusquely.

'I am the son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood and you will acknowledge my presence!'

Arlannis stared at him as shock started to penetrate her shell of sorrow. A faint echo of anger grew within her. Who was he to come to her in her grief boasting of his royal heritage? She recoiled from his grip but he just increased the strength of his hold. Arlannis considered briefly and decided against the indignity of a physical struggle and ceased all movement.

'A wise decision,' said Legolas in the same cold tones.

'What then would you have me do, O Prince of Mirkwood?'

The voice was raw with days of silence, but she had spoken. Legolas felt a dam of relief break within him. The old healer had been right!

'I would have you take your rightful place by your brother's side. We are entering the last days of this Age and we will _all_ be tested before the end. Yours will not be the only grief suffered on the Dark Lord's account,' he said.

'Haldir,' she began brokenly, 'he waits…'

'Do not think of him!' Legolas interjected mercilessly, 'Haldir will go to the Blessed Isle to walk amongst the Valar and taste once again the glory of the First Age. Helm's Deep was his doom and though it pains you, you must accept it.'

Arlannis cast her gaze downwards and swallowed the painful lump in her throat. But Legolas forced her chin up until her eyes were level with his own again.

'Do not turn away from life just yet,' he said gently, 'for you do not know what the fates have in store for you and or what your destiny truly holds.'

Still locked in his grip, Arlannis could only stare at him.

'Haldir was your first love but he need not be your last.'


	19. Gondor calls for aid

Chapter 19 – Gondor Calls for Aid

The day the beacons were lit was a maelstrom of packing and the mustering of men and horses. Arlannis had risen from her chamber and though she remained quiet and somewhat withdrawn, she did her part in the muster.

Eomer had made her a gift of a horse sired by his own massive steed, she was a sleek black mare, even-tempered and true. Not to be outdone in graciousness, Eowyn had thought to provide Arlannis with the proper armour and accoutrements of a Rohan warrior. When Eomer led the exodus, Arlannis rode with the Rohirrim out of Edoras.

Fromas remained in the city and watched the warriors charge away to war, the last war this Age would ever see. When the last of the Rohirrim had cantered out the gate, Fromas hitched his robes and went inside the Golden Hall. The place was empty and echoing with most of the guards posted out to the walls as sentries. Moving slowly, he made his way to the throne. Looking furtively about, he climbed onto the dais and slowly sat upon the golden seat. Swinging his legs back and forth he enjoyed the view.

* * *

Arlannis stood by the cleft in the mountain that marked the Paths of the Dead. The wind blew a little colder there and she shuddered helplessly. Eomer gave her an uneasy smile. The mountain plainly tested his courage too.

Aragorn was taking Gandalf's advice. The old wizard had been most insistent that Aragorn come to Minas Tirith by a different road than the others. And though Arlannis loved her brother, there was something waiting inside the mountain her fragile spirit could not yet bear. The Dead still exerted a powerful hold upon her. It was now, in the shadow of the fell mountain that she found the idea of death distasteful, though she had sought it diligently enough once.

'I cannot accompany you, brother,' she said reluctantly. Aragorn had not questioned the choice, the relief of having his sister back to herself allowed Arlannis much leeway in his eyes.

'Look for us on the fields of the Pelennor then, Arlannis,' he replied, with his hand on her shoulder, 'we will meet again though a multitude of Orcs divide us.'

Arlannis nodded, unable to speak, so deep was her distress at this parting.

'I have no doubt but we will,' Eomer had answered, 'farewell Aragorn. Until the final battle.'

Aragorn said 'Once more I leave my sister to your care, Eomer.'

Legolas paused before following Aragorn and Gimli on the path into the mountain. His eyes burned steadily into Arlannis' and she held his gaze unflinchingly. He smiled at this and mounted his steed swiftly. Not one word had he said to her, not one gesture did he make. Soon Arlannis lost sight of him as he hastened to catch the others up.

Night fell quickly and Arlannis busied herself around the campsite of Dunharrow. She undertook any task to prevent herself dwelling on the fate of her brother or worse, her treacherous heart and the way her thoughts now turned to Legolas. She had been unable to banish him from her mind since he had torn her from her grief in Edoras.

_Haldir was your first love, he need not be your last._

Merry seemed to pick up on her unease for he kept her company. His heartening presence made the wait for the orders to ride more bearable. Merry too, had benefited from the generosity of the White Lady of Rohan. His armour was perfectly fitted to his small form and the sword he carried was strong and sharp.

After remarkably little pestering, Arlannis consented to spar with the young hobbit in preparation for the coming battle.

'You must thrust with more conviction, Merry,' she urged as the hobbit slashed wildly. Merry frowned in concentration and then lunged forward with a low thrust that would have disembowelled Arlannis had she lacked Ranger reflexes.

'Well done, Merry!' she exclaimed, surreptitiously checking her jerkin for punctures.

'That was a well executed blow,' she continued, 'Eowyn! Merry nearly made an end of me!' Arlannis called as she caught sight of the White Lady of Rohan.

Eowyn smiled but looked distracted and did not stop to admire the hobbit's improving blade work. Instead she headed for the horses' quarters.

Arlannis shrugged and started to show Merry the proper way to parry a downward thrust.

* * *

Dawn broke and with it the Riders of Rohan were unleashed on a three-day gallop to Minas Tirith. Arlannis rode with Eomer's contingent. The journey was long and arduous and when at last the great walls of Minas Tirith came into view, Arlannis could feel only gratitude that the endless ride was over despite the overwhelming numbers of Orcs they faced ahead. Victory was unlooked for here. Only death.

'Ride now! Ride now!' came the command from Theoden, Lord of the Mark.

For the first time in twenty long years Arlannis whispered a brief prayer of protection. Not only for Aragorn and Legolas but also for herself, for she knew she did not want to die this day without sight of him again. For they first time in twenty years Arlannis tasted mortal fear.

Nevertheless she cried out with the men of Rohan as the charge was sounded. 'Death!'

* * *

The fields of the Pelennor were chaos unimaginable. Bodies in the final agony of death lay scattered before her. With her own eyes she had seen the White Lady of Rohan hew the head from the Nazgul's mount and consign the Witch King himself to oblivion. Arlannis herself had carelessly poured all her strength and skill into her sword arm and had hacked and slain her way half way across the plains. Her horse, a truly gallant animal, carried her still and she charged it with the others towards the Mûmakil in a hopeless attempt at victory. Despair was about to overwhelm her on the field when a shout went up and she wheeled her mount to face the new challenge.

As the charge of the Southrons' seemed about to sweep all before them, the most unbelievable spectacle played itself out. An army of walking ghosts that writhed their way across the plains wielding terror and death as easily as she wielded her sword, swept the Orcs and Southrons both from the field. Within moments the enemy was crushed between the dread spectral army and the riders of Rohan.

And through the mist and smoke, Arlannis at last found what she was looking for. A small squat dwarf carrying an axe, a tall man with a green jewel between his brows and an elf with daggers drawn and arrows spent.

All were wearing weary smiles and beckoned to her joyfully. On the field of battle, the songs of the men of Rohan filled the air as they celebrated victory and mourned their dead King.


	20. The Wedding Feast

Chapter 20 – The Wedding Feast

The first splendour of the royal wedding was finally over. Aragorn and Arwen had retired to the King's chambers and the last of the guests had sought their beds. There were only two people left in the Great Hall. Elrond sat with Arlannis as they shared a quiet moment together. It was the first time in years they had been alone. When Arlannis allowed her memory to drift she was surprised to discover that the last time had been when her father healed her in Lorien of her self-inflicted wounds

The memory still had the power to cause her discomfort and she shifted in her seat. The day's light had faded and a starry night ruled. Elrond broke the silence, 'How do you fare, daughter?' There was an odd note in his voice that she could not place.

'I am well, father,' she answered dutifully, 'it was a good day, one Aragorn and Arwen have long awaited.'

A cloud passed over Elrond's features and Arlannis cursed her words. She had not meant to bring him pain. Though the joining of Arwen and Aragorn was joyous, Elrond's happiness was poisoned with sorrow for the permanent sundering that lay ahead.

Tentatively, she reached for her father's hand and was surprised when he gripped it tightly.

'Arlannis,' he said, 'I am forced to part forever with Arwen,' tears stood unshed in his eyes as he looked at her entreatingly, 'do not force me to part with you too, my child. I could not bear it.'

Arlannis shrank from stark pain on his face. 'I do not know how to answer you, father,' she managed, 'I made my choice many years ago when I brought shame upon myself and the house of Elrond.'

'Any shame has been long expunged by your valour, Arlannis,' answered Elrond, 'your name is sung with honour throughout the lands. There is still time for you to relent and take what is yours by right of birth. Be my daughter again.'

Arlannis turned from him then, shaking her head. 'I have shunned my birthright, father, for many long years as I have shunned all Elvendom. I have lived and fought with my brother as one of the Dunedain,' her tone grew more heated, 'even if I did change my mind, there are no elves on Middle Earth that would accept me now. Even before my shame, I was not accepted! Not in Imladris and not in Lorien! There is no return to the elf maid I was.'

'You do not need to be the innocent child you were, you must leave her behind and acknowledge the woman you are now,' said Elrond sternly, 'and as for acceptance…do not be so sure that it will be withheld,' he paused and Arlannis looked at him puzzled.

'Make yourself plainer, father,' she said at last.

'I have received a message from King Thranduil of Mirkwood. He informed me that his son, Legolas, intends to wed you. And he is most pleased with the match.'

Arlannis felt her heart skip a beat. 'Legolas?' she asked, stunned.

Elrond frowned, 'He has not spoken of this to you?'

'He has not,' she said, shaking her head.

Arlannis looked so shaken that Elrond was concerned. If Legolas had not yet spoken, he should not have revealed the message from Thranduil.

'Arlannis,' he said, 'I ask you to renounce your mortal life and sail with me to the Blessed Isle when I depart. I would have you with me, daughter.'

Tears fell from her eyes and Arlannis bowed her head.

'Do not weep, child,' Elrond said gently, 'you have shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Your mis-deed in Lorien was the result of despair. I should have come to you sooner and healed your blighted heart. But I did not. And that wounds me. I thought time would heal you, but it only deepened your loneliness. If I had found comfort for you, then perhaps you would not have chosen the life you did.'

Arlannis shook her head, 'You cannot know that, father,' she said, sadly, 'no one, not even the wisest of elves, can say what might have been.'

Elrond looked upon his daughter with compassion and Arlannis suddenly found herself enveloped in his strong embrace.

'I would not lose you as I am to lose Arwen,' he said, 'I tell you this Arlannis, it will destroy me utterly to be bereft of both my daughters.'

The despair in his voice cut through to her heart and Arlannis returned her father's embrace with equal strength.

* * *

It was late that night before Arlannis sought her bed. She and her father had spoken long together, in truth they had never talked more. His wisdom was a soothing balm to her tired spirit. In all her long years away from Imladris, she had forgotten how easily Elrond's presence could heal those around him. Sleep came quickly and for once she did not dream of Haldir.

* * *

The hall was thronged with wedding guests eager for the second day of feasting to commence. The newly wed couple had yet to make an appearance and the hobbits were growing impatient. Breakfast had been hours ago and elevenses had been altogether missed. And now luncheon looked likely to be delayed. Pippin had fired up his pipe and was now dodging Gimli who had run out of pipeweed and seeking a fresh supply.

Arlannis moved awkwardly to her seat at the table. In honour of the wedding, she had forsaken her Ranger and Rohan garb in favour of something more befitting the occasion. A dress such as she not worn since her days in Imladris and Lorien now hung on her tall frame. It was in an unobtrusive shade of rose and matched by a veil in a lighter shade. Nothing could be done about her unfashionably short curls, hence the flowing veil and circlet of silver. In one concession to her Ranger status, the sleeves of her gown were slashed to the elbow and the scars on her arms were clearly visible to any who cared to look. The days of hiding and shame were finally over.

Arlannis took a seat next to her father and waited patiently for her brother and sister to arrive.

The chair next to hers scraped back slowly and Arlannis looked to see who was to be her neighbour for the meal. Legolas' blue eyes stared into hers and time slowed to a stop for a brief moment.

'Lady Arlannis,' started Legolas, 'may I have the seat next to yours?'

Arlannis hesitated, her father's words from the previous night ringing in her ears, Legolas frowned and started to back away from the seat. Arlannis rose slightly and placed a hand on his arm.

'Legolas,' she said, 'may we speak for a while? Outside?'

He nodded wordlessly and Arlannis stood up trying not to notice the smile on her father's face.

Once outside Arlannis led the way to the outermost tip of her brother's city. From their vantage point, the Pellenor fields were spread before them in all their wide splendour. The marks of the recent battle were still fresh however, and neither Arlannis nor Legolas could restrain a shudder as their eye passed over the spot where Eowyn had struck down the Witch King and Theoden had met his end.

'What would you speak of, my Lady?' asked Legolas.

Arlannis took her courage in her hands and spoke bluntly.

'My father has told me that you wish us to wed, Legolas,' she said baldly. 'We spoke long into the night and many things were discussed, that was one of them.'

Legolas raised his head with quiet pride and answered, 'Lord Elrond spoke truly, Arlannis, I wish you to be my wife.'

'Why?' she asked, 'I must know, Legolas. For many years I have forsaken any hope of love, I thought all that had died when I was banished from Lorien, all elvendom know my sorry history there. Why would you, a Prince of your realm, want to join your fate to a half-elven woman with an old disgrace to her name?'

'Because that is not the woman I have come to know, Arlannis,' Legolas said intently, 'the one I wish to wed is the one who fought by my side in Moria, the one who defended Merry and Pippin against the Uruk Hai, the one who stood beside her brother at Helm's Deep and took the field against the Dark Lord on the plains of the Pelennor. I told you in Lorien; what is in your past is past. Your heart is true and I would have it for my own.'

His hand came to rest on her face and he gave her a look of soft entreaty, 'You are the noblest creature I have ever known. Though your father's people abandoned you, it did not taint your heart. You joined your mother's people and fought to keep Gondor, Rohan and all free folk of Middle Earth safe for twenty years. You would have given your life for Frodo or any one of us a hundred times over. Does it seem so strange I should love you?'

He held her then and kissed her firmly. Arlannis stood stock still, the warmth of his arms and lips pervaded her being and she kissed him in return. It was as though the life of the Eldar flowed from him warming her to the core and bringing renewed vigour to her heart removing the last traces of doubt.

When at last the kiss ended Legolas smiled at her and whispered, 'My heart is yours, my Lady, forever unto the breaking of the world.'

'But when that time comes, you and I will be separated for eternity just as Arwen and Aragorn,' Arlannis blurted, 'this is not a grief I would wish on either of us.'

'I would choose a short time with you than all eternity on the Blessed Isle with my kin,' he answered bluntly, 'but I have hope that Arwen has not. You are not fully mortal as your brother is, Arlannis, there are still ships in the Grey Havens that would take you home…'

Arlannis looked doubtfully at him. 'My choice was made long ago, Legolas, it may not be something that can be changed on a whim.'

'One such as you that has dared such danger with no hope or desire for reward deserves a place on one of the Grey Ships, my love,' he answered firmly, 'you are one of the Fellowship of the Ring, a hero of the Third Age and soon to be my wife. For you, a place will be found.'


	21. Epilogue

AN: At last it's over and done with. I never thought I could finish this story but now it's finally done! Many thanks to all reviewers! Your time and comments are much appreciated...

* * *

Epilogue

Arlannis stood next to Arwen as together they held the final vigil over the tomb of her brother. Aragorn lay at rest, an expression of peaceful wisdom on his noble face. Arwen was inconsolable; she had barely spoken since the moment Aragorn had laid down his mortal life. Arlannis watched her sister's eyes darken and wondered how any spirit could survive such despair.

It was truly as Elrond had said, there would be no comfort for Arwen Undomiel, not in this world. Arwen left her husband's tomb and took her leave of her son and daughters. No word could stay her and she would listen to none who counselled patience.

She spoke briefly to Arlannis, 'You bear witness to the grief I have reaped, spare Legolas this suffering, Arlannis. Go with him when he departs for the Grey Havens. I must abide by the Doom of Men, and long will be my life even though my sorrow consumes me. It is time for all elvendom to pass away.'

It was true. The days of the elves were faded beyond recall. Galadriel and Celeborn were gone many years, Elrond had accompanied them along with Gandalf and Frodo the Ring Bearer. And even Samwise Gamgee, last of the Ring Bearers had taken ship from Middle Earth.

The Mirkwood was quiet and still and their number dwindled. Few were their dealings with Men. Thranduil had left decades ago and Legolas was now King of the remains of his father's realm. On their journey here, it seemed to Arlannis as though her father's kind had never set foot on Middle Earth, so complete was their abandonment. Imladris was a shrine of soft winds and whisperings. Nothing but memories remained. Arlannis could not bring herself to pass through Lorien after witnessing the lifeless shell of Imladris, so they came to Minas Tirith via the Gap of Rohan.

In Edoras, the heirs of Eomer had looked upon them as though they were legends sprung to life. Arlannis paid a visit to the tomb of Fromas, the kindly old healer that had possessed a streak of mischief more suited to a hobbit than a Man. Placing blossoms on his resting place, she remained a long while remembering his wisdom and kindness.

She and her husband had travelled alone and lightly, but every populous place they passed regarded them with wonder.

'They have forgotten our kind,' said Legolas wistfully, 'the Fourth Age is upon us.'

* * *

Legolas walked the city of Minas Tirith renewing his old friendship with the only other of the Fellowship that had survived to see the death of the King. Gimli was old but still strong after the manner of dwarves. His axe was still his constant companion, though his hair had grown thin and his beard grey. Together they sat and talked of the old days and their many triumphs in the war of the Ring. They had visited Merry and Pippin's graves, Aragorn himself had been laid to rest with the two small hobbits who had passed their last years in Gondor.

'And so now, at last, the greatest of us is gone,' said Gimli mournfully.

Legolas bowed his head and wept.

It was there Arlannis found him and together they watched the last journey of Arwen Undomiel. Her hooded figure, clad all in grey left Minas Tirith and wheeled her mount towards the empty land of Lorien.

Arlannis felt as though her heart would break watching the lonely figure of her sister slowly disappear.

Legolas pulled her close to him and held her thus for a long time.

Looking upon her unlined face and bright eyes he spoke, 'My Lady, it is time for the elves to leave Middle Earth. All that I love has passed away, all save one beloved treasure. I will do as Arwen Undomiel and abide the Doom of Men. I will not look again upon the Twilight, the home of all my kin. Though I would take ship for the Blessed Isle, for you I will remain and await what end I know not. This I will do happily, for you are my life's grace.'

Arlannis looked upon her husband's beloved face and answered, 'My Lord, your love truly knows no bounds, but for all that I would not have us sundered forever from our kin that abide in the Twilight. I will go with you to the Blessed Isle and greet our people again. Though my heart grieves that I cannot follow my brother Aragorn or my sister Arwen on the great journey beyond the veil of Arda.'

And so Legolas built a ship and on it sailed with both his wife and Gimli the dwarf. The last of the Fellowship left Middle Earth and no more can be said of them.


End file.
